Stop Loss
by insertsnarkhere
Summary: It’s been ten years since anyone has seen John Allerdyce after the incident at Alkali Lake. If he didn’t join Magneto, where did he go?
1. Chapter 1

Summary: It's been ten years since anyone has seen John Allerdyce after the incident at Alkali Lake. If he didn't join Magneto, where did he go?

Disclaimer: Property of Marvel and Fox and Stan Lee and blah blah blah...

--

A/N: Just a couple of things -- I'm thinking John was around 17 when he left, the cure is permanent, and the Professor, Jean, and Scott are alive. See what I can do through the power of fanfiction? Woo!! Set after X3. Now onto the story…

--

_You always do as you're told?_

He never was one for goodbyes, she thought.

He had been gone for ten years. And no one could figure out where he went.

Jean was wrong when she said he was with Magneto.

Maybe he did get on that helicopter, but it seemed that he didn't stay very long. Every fight they've been up against the Brotherhood, even at Alcatraz, he was nowhere to be seen. Rogue was sure if he had been there, he would have gleefully participated. He wasn't one to hide when there was a war to be fought. If the incident in front of Bobby's house had taught her anything, it was that he loved to use his powers.

The Professor couldn't find him, even with Cerebro. He just could not detect John's mutation anywhere. There were no reports of mysterious fires or blazes or anything that could even remotely be connected to him.

He was just...gone.

Rogue knew what they said at the school. She couldn't ignore the whispers and gossip forever.

_He's probably dead._

But she couldn't accept that. She did not want to believe that he could have died alone somewhere on the snowy slopes near Alkali Lake. That Stryker's plan had succeeded in killing at least one mutant off the face of this earth.

No, he had to be alive.

Somewhere. Anywhere.

She sighed heavily. She really needed to focus her attention on the children.

They were at the Metropolitan Museum, supposedly looking at the artwork for a class project, but the children seemed more interested in running circles around the guards and making their workday miserable.

It had been almost three years since the Professor had offered her a position at the school. She was still getting used to the idea of teaching kindergarten, with Jubilee, no less -- the girl who proclaimed she was allergic to all things child-related. But Rogue enjoyed her work and the kids were always eager to learn.

Well, except when it came to looking at very old paintings, she thought.

"I give up," Jubilee said throwing up her hands in defeat. She stood next to Rogue and asked, "Who's bright idea was it to bring them here?"

"Don't look at me -- I thought we should have taken them to the zoo."

"It would have been more appropriate with all of them acting like a bunch of frickin' monkeys."

Rogue giggled as Jubilee reached out and grabbed a boy who was running past her by the arm. "Sam, will you please stop running?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, very politely for a five year old, then proceeded to walk away just far enough before he went into a full-out sprint again.

"I can't believe he did that," Jubilee said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Did you really think he was going to listen?"

"No, not that. He called me 'ma'am.' I'm only twenty-five! I can't be a ma'am yet!"

Rogue giggled again and watched as Jubilee tried to pull apart two boys who decided to wrestle in the middle of the room. She wasn't quite sure why Jubilee was putting so much effort into maintaining some kind of order with these kids. It was just no use whatsoever. And some of them were probably strong enough to blast even Logan off of them. It was common sense to let them just tire themselves out. Jubilee was going to have to learn that the hard way.

Her attention was diverted when she saw Sam again but this time a blonde-haired girl she had never seen before was chasing him.

"I'm gonna get you!" she yelled out to the boy.

Sam just laughed and ran faster, almost colliding with a group of Japanese tourists.

Rogue smiled. She couldn't remember the last time she felt that carefree.

"Maggie! Maggie! Come back here!"

The blonde-haired girl skidded to a stop at the voice and turned around sheepishly.

"I told you to stay close."

"Sorry, daddy."

Rogue couldn't see his face, his back was toward her. He was wearing jeans and a dark blue shirt, 'Phoenix Fire Department' written on the back.

_Hmm...he's a firefighter...must explain the shoulders..._

She watched as he crouched down and picked up the little girl by the waist. The girl smiled in apology as she leaned back in her father's arms and touched his cheek with her small hand.

"Don't run off like that again, okay?"

"Okay."

"Let's go find mommy, all right?"

The little girl nodded vigorously, her hair flying all over her face. As he smoothed the hair away, he turned so Rogue got a view of his face and what she saw made her heart, her breath, her entire body stop.

"John?" she whispered.

She watched as he carried the girl through to another room. She hurried after him, pushing people aside.

Were her eyes playing tricks on her? She had to make sure it was him. She hoped it was him. She prayed in those seconds trying to catch up to him that it was him.

"John!" she yelled out again but he didn't turn around, acting as if that wasn't his name. Why wasn't he turning around? Several men further away had heard her and turned around, wondering who was causing the commotion in an art museum. "John!"

She finally caught him by the arm and spun him around. "John...it's you."

His brow furrowed and he frowned. The little girl in his arms had the same exact expression on her face.

But Rogue wasn't paying attention to any of that. She just couldn't believe he was here, standing in front of her...alive. He was a bit taller, his hair was lighter and shorter, his face more matured, but his eyes...they were the same shade of blue she remembered.

"I think you've got me confused with someone else." He tried to walk away but her grip on his arm only tightened. She couldn't let him go again, not when she just found him.

"John, it's me. Rogue. Remember?"

His frown only deepened. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

Rogue just stared at him in disbelief -- she was pretty sure her mouth might be hanging open slightly too.

"John..." she began slowly. "It's Rogue. You sat in front of me in history class. Remember? We did a project together on Abraham Lincoln..."

She trailed off when she saw a woman with long auburn hair approaching them, pushing a stroller. There was a baby sucking happily on a pacifier in it. "Ben? Is everything all right?"

_Ben? Who the hell is Ben?_

"Uh...yeah, Jess, everything's fine," he said, setting the little girl down on her feet again. He straightened and looked at Rogue again with those same familiar eyes. "I really don't know who you are. I'm not this John guy you've mistaken me for."

"But..."

"Ben, we have to go. Andy's probably wondering where we are," the auburn-haired woman said, touching his arm.

"All right." He turned back to Rogue and said before leaving, "I'm really sorry. I hope you find him."

She watched, too stunned to move, let alone form a coherent reply. He took the little girl's hand into his and walked away. Rogue could see the woman lean closer to him, asking him something to which he just shrugged. The little girl looked back at Rogue, waving good-bye to her with her free hand.

_I don't understand. He didn't recognize me. It's like he never knew me at all.  
_

"Rogue?"

She snapped out of her daze to see Jubilee standing by her side, looking worriedly at her.

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I saw him," she whispered. "I saw him, Jubes."

"Saw who?"

"John."

"Rogue...it couldn't have been..."

"It was. It was him."

"Rogue..."

"No, stop looking at me like I'm crazy! I know what I saw. It was him! It was him! It was him!"

Jubilee put her hands on Rogue's shoulders, in an attempt to calm her. "Okay...okay... Let's get the kids and we'll head back. We'll talk to the Professor. All right?"

"Yeah...that's a good idea... He'll know what to do."

--

When they got back to the mansion, Rogue tore out of the van, leaving Jubilee to deal with the still rowdy children alone, and headed straight to the Professor's office. But all she found was an empty room.

It was just her luck. The one time when she actually wanted and needed someone to read her mind.

She just needed someone to confirm what she saw... It _was_ him... It had to be... She wasn't crazy… She knew who she saw…right?

She was starting to seriously doubt her own sanity.

"Oh, hey, Rogue." Storm walked in, a pile of folders in her arms. "If you're looking for the Professor, he left about an hour ago."

"He's gone?"

"He went to Washington to meet with Hank about some things. He'll be back tomorrow," Storm said, setting the folders down on the massive desk. "Did you need something?"

"Um...no..."

Storm looked at her curiously, her hand holding the pile of folders in place. "Are you sure? I can put off filing these for another day. God knows I'm looking for a reason to."

Rogue hesitated, trying to decide if she should tell Storm about who she saw at the museum. Was Jubilee right? Was she crazy to think that he was alive? That he would show up at an art museum of all places? And besides that, he sure as hell didn't act like the pyromaniac she knew ten years ago. Then again, he didn't act like he was John Allerdyce at all.

"Rogue?"

She saw that Storm was still waiting for her answer. "I...I thought..."

"Yeah?" Storm gently prodded.

Rogue was just about to blurt out what and who she saw when the door slammed open and Kitty came rushing in.

"Sorry to interrupt," Kitty said, huffing and puffing and looking like she just ran a marathon. "But one of the kids thought it would be a good idea to flood his room with God-knows-what. We need some help."

"Oh, right." Rogue was turning to leave with Kitty when Storm caught her arm.

"Rogue?"

"It's probably nothing. I can wait until the Professor gets back."

"If you're sure..."

"Rogue!" Kitty yelled from the hallway. "Storm! Hurry! It's starting to leak into the library!"

They're startled by Kitty's cry for help and leave the office together. The files fall to the floor unnoticed.

--

_Phoenix, Arizona -- five days later_

--_  
_

He turned off the lights to the living room, carefully maneuvering around the sleeping dogs, and headed upstairs. He poked his head into a room that was painted pink, Barbie dolls and stuffed animals strewn all over the floor. He saw the little girl sprawled out on top of her bedsheets, holding a teddy bear loosely in her hand, one leg hanging over the side. He tucked her back under the blanket and kissed her forehead good night.

He then went into the smaller room next door. He leaned over the crib and saw the baby sleeping soundly. He turned on the Winnie the Pooh nightlight and made sure the baby monitor was on.

He made his way back down the stairs to the master bedroom. She was already in bed, waiting for him.

"Home sweet home," he said, slipping in next to her.

She smiled at him, pressing her lips against his. "Home sweet home." She smoothed away a lock of hair from his face. "You start your shift tomorrow?"

"Yeah, first thing in the morning." He shifted slightly so her head was resting against his shoulder. "So what did you think of New York?"

"Big. Noisy. Too many people. Too many cars."

"You're the one who wanted to go see your friends," he chuckled.

She just gave him a disgruntled look before snuggling closer to him. "Are you going to tell me who she was?"

"Who what was?" he asked, distracted while she traced patterns over his chest.

"That girl...in the museum."

"I told you: I don't know who she was. She kept calling me John for some reason. She probably was thinking I was somebody else."

"Did you think she was pretty?"

"What?"

"Did you think she was pretty?" she asked again, trying to act nonchalant, her hand now idly stroking through his hair.

"Jess...you know you're the only one for me."

"You're not answering my question," she said, smacking her hand against his shoulder in mild irritation.

He grinned and kissed her until she was breathless and forgot what they were talking about in the first place.

--

He woke up with a gasp, breathing heavily.

It was that dream again.

He was younger, his hair was darker and slicked back, he was wearing track pants and a brown long sleeve shirt. He saw an older man with claws fall, a bullet shot through his forehead. There was another boy to his right and a girl to his left, both of them were lowering themselves slowly to the ground with their hands raised -- just as the police instructed them to do. But him...he was just staring at the two of them in disbelief. Like he couldn't believe they were giving up so easily. It was then he knew what he had to do.

He had to burn.

That was when he always woke. He never knew what happened next or who the other people were in his dream. A man with claws? It had to be a dream. He couldn't possibly know anyone like that.

He didn't know anyone who was a mutant...right?

There was something about tonight's dream though that was different. The girl. He recognized the girl. The white stripes in her hair...

_I've seen her before. But where?_

He was running a hand over his face, telling himself to stop being ridiculous, when he realized there were strange noises coming from the baby monitor.

"Shh...be quiet, fuckface."

"You be quiet."

"Do you want to wake the entire neighborhood, dickhead? I'm gonna grab the baby, you go get the girl."

"I'm not carrying her."

"Asswipe, you cannot possibly think you can hold a baby. Especially with those big, meaty hands of yours."

"I'm not carrying her."

"For fuck sake, will you keep you voice down?"

He didn't hear the rest of the conversation, he immediately went into emergency mode. All that training at the fire academy wasn't lost on him – now was definitely not the time to panic.

"Jess? Jess?" he whispered, shaking her awake.

"What is it?" she said groggily, her voice still thick with sleep. "Is it time to feed Jack?"

"You have to get up. There's somebody in the house."

Realization dawned in her eyes and she was about to scream, but he stopped her by putting his hand over her mouth.

"No, no, you have to be quiet. They're in Jack's room right now. You need to go get help."

"No, Ben..."

"Listen to me, Jess. No, just listen to me, okay? Go next door. Call the police."

She looked at him apprehensively.

He walked her to the back door, giving her a slight push out when she hesitated in leaving for the neighbor's house. "Call the police," he whispered to her again. She nodded and made her way hurriedly through the backyard and through the wooden gate to the house next door.

He watched her go for a moment before going back inside. He went back to the bedroom to listen the baby monitor again; they were still arguing over who was going to carry who.

He only had a few moments then to gather himself and plan what he should do. He searched through the closet and grabbed the closest thing to a weapon they had in the house -- he never figured he would have to use a baseball bat like this.

Maggie's screams pierced through the air.

Then he heard Jack start to cry.

"Shut her up! Shut her up!"

"I'm kinda busy, shithead!"

He hurried out of the bedroom and waited for them at the bottom of the stairs, hiding himself in the shadows as best he could. When he saw a tall, bulky man's face come into his view, he swung the bat.

It connected with the side of the man's face with a sickening thwack, the bones in his face audibly crunching under the force. Maggie screamed and jumped out of the man's grasp when he fell to his knees, holding his face in his hands.

"Maggie! Go! Run!" he yelled, holding open the front door for her as she ran out, still screaming hysterically.

"Get back, man. I still have your baby!" The other man was trying to maintain his grip on the squirming, crying baby and help his partner up to his feet at the same time. "You don't want to do anything stupid."

The two men circled around him, warily watching the bat still tightly grasped in his hands.

Sirens were wailing outside, getting closer and closer, distracting the two men.

It was his opportunity -- he released the bat, throwing it out of everyone's reach, and charged toward them. He managed to kick the already injured man in the gut, hurling him back on his knees, groaning. He blindly grabbed for his baby, shoving the other intruder hard against the wall, and running out the still open front door with Jack in his arms.

"FUCK! Come on, man! We have to get him back!"

When he turned slightly to see if they were following him, he saw the two men standing in the open doorway. The injured man was still holding his broken face in one hand and with the other hand pulled something out from inside his jacket. The streetlight glinted off the barrel of the gun.

"Ben!"

"No, Jess! Get back!"

He then heard the shots being fired. He felt something pierce his shoulder and then his thigh. Somehow he managed to maintain his balance, holding tightly to the crying baby. He was moving on pure adrenaline, not daring to stop until he knew they were all safe and away from the danger.

"BEN!" she screamed, running toward him. More shots were fired. He felt something graze the side of his face and another piercing pain went through his side.

"Stop shooting, asshole! They're no good to us dead! We need them alive!"

--

_Westchester_

--

They had just finished watching yet another late night viewing of _Gladiator_, courtesy of Jubilee who thought it was the greatest movie ever made.

"Let's all agree never to let Jubilee pick a movie. Agreed?" Peter asked everyone in the room.

"Agreed," they all said together, with the exception of Jubilee who gave them all a look of outrage.

"Hey! It's an awesome movie! And awesome movies deserve to be watched again and again!"

"We're not saying it's not a good movie," Peter replied. "It's just that we think you should give the disc a rest. And we start to worry when you start mouthing the dialogue along with the characters during the movie."

"I can't help it -- and you can't say that 'At my signal, unleash hell' isn't an awesome line!"

"Stop saying awesome!" Jones and Siryn said at the same time.

"Hey, turn it to the news, will you?" Kitty asked.

Bobby held the remote in his hands. "What for?"

"I like to keep informed. Now will you please turn it to the news?"

"Fine." He flipped through the channels until he found a local news broadcast that was still on.

"We have some breaking news coming out of Arizona tonight. There are reports about a failed kidnapping plot involving a Phoenix firefighter and his family."

At the words 'Phoenix firefighter', Rogue became alert and began paying attention to what the newscaster was saying.

She had almost convinced herself that incident at the museum was probably just a bad case of mistaken identity. The Professor didn't need to be bothered with her weird visions – didn't they say there would be some side effects to the cure? Maybe she just _thought_ she saw him. No, it wasn't John at all -- just someone who looked remarkably like him. No, it couldn't have been him. Nope. It wasn't him. No way.

But her sudden rapt attention to something that might or might not have anything to do with him said otherwise.

She couldn't help it. Phoenix Fire Department was written on his shirt that day -- it was something that was now permanently seared into her memory. Ever since then, whenever she read or heard anything to do with Phoenix and/or a fire department, she became a one-woman audience.

"We've just received word that there were also reports of gunfire... We'll go live now with reporter Maria Gutiérrez from our Phoenix affiliate KNXV for more on this breaking story. Maria?"

"Yes, Don, I'm standing in front of the house right now where the incident occurred about three hours ago. As you can see behind me, there is still a flurry of police activity. We've receive some information from one of the detectives on scene that two men broke into the house, planning to kidnap the two children who were sleeping inside..."

"Turn it off, Bobby. I hate watching stories like these...they only depress me," Siryn said.

"No! Wait," Rogue said, grabbing Bobby's hand when he started reaching for the remote again.

"Police have released the name of firefighter. His name is Benjamin Sullivan. Do we have his picture?"

A collected gasp went through the room as the picture flashed on screen.

_I wasn't crazy. It was him._

"We've also learned that Mr Sullivan, who many residents of this quiet neighborhood have described as a 'good family man', has been shot multiple times and is in surgery right now at Phoenix Memorial Hospital..."

Just as Jubilee was about to say something to break the tension in the air, they could hear the motorized whirr of a wheelchair coming into the room.

The Professor, Logan, and Scott came into view. All three men glanced at the TV briefly, the picture of 'Benjamin Sullivan' still on the screen. Then the Professor said in his quiet calm voice, "We're going to Phoenix."


	3. Chapter 3

_He was so damn drunk._

_He didn't know what he was doing._

_Oh God...he knew just where to touch...he knew just what made my toes curl in pleasure...everything he did was just too intense for me to handle..._

_It didn't matter that he smelt like an entire liquor cabinet...not when his hand pressed against the small of my back and all I could do was shudder the small gesture brought to the rest of my body..._

_How was it that he could do this to me? He never once made any kind of indication that he was even remotely interested...except that first day...the fire he created in his hands..._

"_Roguey, you're the best, you know that, right?"_

_He had kissed me through my own scarf...my first kiss since that unforgettable day in Mississippi..._

"_Love ya..." he murmured to her before passing out on the couch._

She woke, sitting upright in her bed, still breathing heavily.

She slipped out of bed and padded her way to the bathroom. She splashed some cold water on her face...it didn't work, her cheeks were still flushed and her heart was still racing.

She couldn't get that night out of her head. Even when no one knew if he was alive or dead, she couldn't stop thinking about what happened...or what could have happened. If only he hadn't passed out...

_He didn't even remember what had happened the next day when he came looking for me, asking if he did anything stupid...he looked so uncomfortable...and guilty..._

_It was the first time he looked guilty about anything..._

_I told him nothing happened and he believed me...why would I lie? I was suppose to be his friend, right? Just his friend...  
_

_He swore that he would never drink again, saying that he learned his lesson...and that alcohol didn't really taste that great if you knew you were only to taste it again the morning after hovering over a toilet..._

_He was still her friend...he didn't even realize there was a change..._

_Whenever he accidentally brushed his hand against the small of my back, it became too much..._

_A part of me wanted to send him a bottle of Jack just to see if it would happen again...because I wanted it to happen again..._

She snapped out of her thoughts when she realized she had left the water running.

She splashed more cold water on her face and turned off the faucet.

It was funny, Bobby being as smart he was, he never thought about using a scarf or even a handkerchief to protect himself from her mutation. That time at his house in Boston, he had just kissed her. And look what happened, even as he protested that she couldn't hurt him...

_Idiot..._

She hadn't lied when she told Logan that she wanted to take the cure, she wasn't doing it for any boy.

She was tired of hurting, tired of all the voices in her head, tired of not knowing herself anymore.

She remembered the days afterward. At first, there had been no problems. She gleefully went around the mansion, touching everybody's hands -- Bobby's, Jubilee's, Storm's, Logan's... She could touch and no one got hurt.

It was a miracle to her.

But then she started getting dizzy. Then she started throwing up. She got nauseous around the smell of food cooking. It was like she was having morning sickness but she knew that was an impossibility -- sure, she wanted a physical relationship with her boyfriend but Bobby was still hesitant about even giving her the briefest of kisses, as if he was afraid it was too good to be true and he was going to get hurt again. She wasn't about to jump into bed with a boy like that.

The symptoms got worse with each passing day. She was bed-ridden for a week before she could start walking upright and not feel like the floor was about to fall out from under her feet. It was another two days before she could eat solid foods and keep it down. It was another three days before Kitty came to see her and tell her about what Bobby had been doing all that time she had been sick.

_The fucking bastard..._

She had left the moment Hank gave her the all clear.

She took a car and just drove. Didn't care where, just wanted to get away. At least for a little while.

She ended up back in Meridian, seeing her parents again even if it was just from afar.

They looked so content, sitting together on the front porch of the house, holding hands and sipping iced tea. She wondered if they even missed her.

She tried to muster up the courage to ring that doorbell. She tried for three straight days, listening as the piano notes floated through the open windows, but drove away on the fourth when her finger only hovered over the button, the effort to actually push it just not there.

She was going to drive back to New York but, hell, she was going to use this time to see all the things she thought she would never get to see. She always wanted to go on a road trip -- this was her opportunity, it wasn't like she really wanted to get back to the mansion so quickly anyways. She stopped at a motel, called Logan, and sat down to plan her trip. She was going to drive to Savannah and make her way back up to New York from there.

Unfortunately, her plans went awry when she ended up bumping into a red-eyed Cajun.

She knelt down on the bathroom floor, loosening one the tiles near the sink. She reached into the hole behind the tile and pulled out the tin box she kept there. She opened the lid and rummaged through the old pictures and ticket stubs she'd collected through those months she had been gone.

It had been good while it lasted, she thought. She had thought he would have made her happy, that he would make some kind of effort to make their relationship work, that he would make her forget about a certain missing boy who loved to play with fire.

But it all ended the way her relationships seemed to end at the time -- with him making the moves on another girl.

She sighed heavily and continued through the pictures when she saw it.

It was the scarf. The one she hadn't worn since that night he had kissed her through it. The one she couldn't bear to wear again but she couldn't bring herself to throw away either.

She fingered the fabric, remembering the way his lips felt on hers even through a barrier.

He didn't remember what had happened between them that night and now he didn't remember any of them at all.

The irony of it all made her want to cry.

--

_"__More information coming out of Phoenix this morning..._

"_We have learned that the wife of the injured firefighter, Jessica Sullivan, daughter of Senator William Harrison of Arizona, was also shot during the attempted kidnapping..._

"_The two children, who were unharmed during the incident, are staying with their grandparents at their Arizona residence, guarded by a private security team hired by the Senator..._

"_It has been confirmed -- Jessica Sullivan was pronounced dead this evening..._

"_Benjamin Sullivan was released from the hospital today...a family spokesperson has asked the press for privacy during this time..._

"_Mr Sullivan is the son of neurosurgeon Dr David Sullivan who died after having a massive stroke three years ago... Mr Sullivan's mother, Jane Sullivan, worked as an assistant at city hall and was killed by a drunk driver around the same time as Dr Sullivan__'__s death..._

"_Security was visibly tight at the funeral for Jessica Sullivan..._

"_Mr Sullivan and his children are now at an undisclosed location..."_

Watching all the news reports gave some indication about his life had been since leaving the jet that day.

God knows she was dying for even the tiniest bit of information about him.

When the Professor came in that night and said that they were going to Phoenix, she didn't realize he wasn't talking about all of them. She wanted to scream at him when he told Kitty and Peter to be ready to leave in ten minutes. And when she protested about not being included, he merely said that he needed her at the mansion then wheeled away, talking to Scott about the preparations he wanted to make. She had to bite her tongue not to curse him and his shiny bald head. She saw Logan arch a brow at her, as if he was the mind reader and knew exactly what she was about to say.

They had been gone over for over a week. And when they came back, she realized he had not come back with them.

No one who went to see him would say what had happened.

"I know you're dying to know," Jubilee said, bouncing on the couch next to her. She turned the TV off to get her friend's attention. "Rogue, hey...this is the part where you show a little enthusiasm and ask me about what Kitty told me."

Rogue turned to her sharply. "Kitty told you? Why has she told you now? I couldn't even get Logan to tell me what happened."

"You give up too easily, my friend. If you need information, it's all about persistence persistence persistence." Jubilee paused for a moment, looking a little thoughtful. "And, of course, a healthy dose of singing 100 bottles of beer on the wall at the top of my lungs every night since she got back helps too."

Rogue laughed as she could only imagine what Kitty must have endured in the past week from her roommate.

"Ah...that's the enthusiasm I was looking for. Now," Jubilee said, rubbing her hands together in a let-the-gossip-flow manner that only she had, "this is coming from Kitty so knowing her, she probably left out a lot of details just so she can cover her ass if somebody found out she was the one who blabbed."

"You're terrible."

"Hey, I'm not the one who can't keep a secret." She gave Rogue an evil grin before continuing. "Apparently, the Professor only found out about John the same way we all did. The magic of television, huh? He's still not sure why he wasn't able to locate him with Cerebro. Makes you kinda wonder..."

"About what?"

"Duh, Rogue...that maybe John's not a mutant anymore!"

"What?! No way!"

"Well, it's just a theory. Would explain a lot though. Can you imagine him without his powers? The boy sure did love his fire..."

"Jubes, can you just continue with what Kitty told you?" She really did not want to think about him that way.

"Well, okay, where was I? Oh, right, so they went to the hospital where he was...I guess he was in surgery for a long time and the doctors wanted him to recuperate before he talked to anybody. Of course, the police wanted to talk to him first. They didn't see him until like the sixth day they were in Phoenix and that was after arguing with his father-in-law for about ten thousand million hours. I still can't believe he married a Senator's daughter. I mean, I always pictured him as one of those guys who only did one night relationships, you know what I mean? But married? To a Senator's daughter? Holy crap!"

"Jubilee! Focus!" The girl maybe twenty-five years old but her attention span was that of a two year old on a sugar high.

"Oh, right, right... So, yeah, his father-in-law definitely did not want them to see or talk to him, even after they explained to him why they were there and who this 'Ben Sullivan' really is. Kitty thought the Senator was acting a little strange..."

"Why?"

"She said she kinda got the sense that he already knew all this...that maybe he didn't really want John to find out who he really was... I don't know. Maybe Kitty's senses were off that day. Remember that one time when she thought she heard Logan singing show tunes? What in the world made her think that the Wolverine would even know the lyrics to _Oklahoma_? I mean, seriously..."

"Jubilee..."

"All right, all right! Getting back, I guess when the Senator realized that they weren't going to leave without seeing him, he would only agree on letting two people into the room. Obviously the Professor went in but I still don't get why he choose Logan to go in there with him. I mean, you would think he would have chosen either Scott or Jean or maybe even Storm but Logan? Don't give me that look! I'm getting back to the point! Anyways, they were only in there for about twenty minutes when Kitty heard John screaming at them to get out."

"I guess finding out you're not who you thought you were really freaked him out."

"That's what Kitty thought too! But then she overheard Logan and the Professor talking in the hallway of the hotel they were staying at. Logan kept saying he got startled when somebody dropped a tray, he didn't mean for his claws to come out."

"Well, those things are pretty scary looking..."

Jubilee shrugged. "Maybe. But then Kitty heard the Professor saying to Logan that he didn't think John didn't look scared...yeah, he was probably surprised -- who wouldn't be? Seeing a man with claws isn't something you see everyday, right? But the Professor thought John looked like he recognized them..."

"How?"

"Who knows? Maybe he hasn't forgotten everything..."

They were both silent for a moment, each lost their own thoughts.

"Hey, I never asked you...what did the Professor say?" Jubilee asked.

"About what?"

"That day at the museum! You saw him there! You _did_ tell him...didn't you?"

"Um...well..."

"You didn't tell him?" The look of incredulity on Jubilee's face was almost comical. Rogue would have laughed if Jubilee hadn't given her a punch on the arm so hard, she thought a bone might have broken. "After you freaked the hell out in the museum! And scared about half the people in there! And then left me alone with all those kids in the van! You didn't..."

Jubilee trailed off when she saw Peter walking into the room. "What are you two gossiping about now?"

"Oh, you know... Make-up. Celebrity hook-ups and break-ups. Who's got a cuter ass, Scott or Logan," Jubilee said airily but giving Rogue a murderous look when Peter was looking the other way.

The two girls watched -- a little apprehensively -- as Peter squeezed himself in between them, squishing them to the sides of the couch.

Peter looked at them both and said, "So who's in the lead now? Scott or Logan? I got a lot of money on Logan."

--

Whitefish, Montana -- Sullivan residence

--

His parents had bought this house when he was eighteen. He wasn't sure why -- the scenery was nice with its tall mountains and vast lakes, but it wasn't like his parents had been avid skiers or hikers and they certainly did not fish or swim. They weren't exactly nature lovers either. All they did when they were at the house was read and maybe go into town to buy a few trinkets for friends.

He was glad though that they had it now. It was place of sanctuary now.

He winced as he stubbed his toe against the coffee table...again. If he wasn't holding a sleeping Maggie in his arms right then, he would have cursed and tossed the damn thing out the window.

Maggie shifted in his arms, clutching at his shirt a little tighter but still asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief. The first few days they had been at this house, she would close her eyes, only to wake up screaming, crying out for him or, even worse, her mother.

She seemed to be getting a little better, sleeping through most of the night now. He placed her in the bed, putting a blanket over her small form.

He walked over to the crib that was in the same room. Jack was still sleeping, his little hands unconsciously waving in the air.

He checked on the dogs lying on the floor of the room. He still could not believe they were still alive after being drugged by the two would-be kidnappers. He petted their heads and let them fall back to sleep.

They seemed to sleep better when they were all together in a room, even the dogs. He can only guess that they felt safety in numbers.

He would never admit it but he had the worse of the sleeping problems. He ended up watching infomercials about everything from exercise machines to counter-top grills to anti-aging skin creams. He wanted to blame the pain he still felt in his shoulder and side for not being able to sleep but, in truth, his dreams had become even more haunted since that night... It wasn't the screams and chaos that scared him, it was the silence and nothingness that his dreams ended with.

He ran into the damn coffee table again while he was going back to the living room. This time he did curse out loud, glaring at the piece of furniture. He was thinking about ways to get rid of the object of his misery when a small silver object on the carpeted floor caught his eye. He bent down to retrieve it -- it was a key. He looked underneath the table and saw the tape residue on the rough wood. It must have fallen off after his numerous run-ins with the damn thing.

He looked closely at the key -- he knew what it unlocked. It was the only thing in the house that remained unlocked, that was always locked even when his parents were still alive.

The camel hump trunk was still in his parents' bedroom closet. He hadn't really tried to open it, thinking whatever was hidden in it was their business and he didn't want to pry. They obviously didn't want him to see what was inside.

So why was he still holding the key?

Damn human curiosity. He just couldn't deny it.

He hoped it didn't contain sex toys or a collection of porn or something equally vomit-inducing that no one needed to know about their parents.

He knelt down, putting the key into the keyhole and turning it to unlock the trunk. He slowly opened the lid – he would have the opportunity to close it quickly if he saw anything he didn't want to see.

All he saw though was a piece of fabric. Thinking it was safe, he opened the lid further and saw that it was a dark blue jacket with a zippered front. He took it out to get a better look. He noticed there was a patch sewn on the sleeve, a circle with an X through it. It looked familiar...

He went back to see what else was in the trunk and he stopped breathing for a second. Track pants. Brown long-sleeved shirt. Those he did remember seeing before. But that was just a dream...right? What the hell was going on?

There were books, old newspapers, more clothes... Then at the bottom of the trunk, he found the oddest thing. It was a lighter. He knew neither his father nor mother smoked...why would they have a lighter? And with a shark design on it?

The ringing of the phone startled him out of his thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Mr Allerdyce, you're a hard man to find."

_Allerdyce?_ "I think you have the wrong number."

"Ah, excuse me, I guess I should have called you by your _real_ name...Pyro."

"Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"My dear Pyro, I'm hurt. I thought you would have at least remembered me of all people. I thought I had left a lasting memory with my high compliment to your talent to manipulate fire."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"A god among insects... That's what you are, Pyro..."


	4. Chapter 4

"Pyro? Still there?"

"Who are you? Why are you calling me?"

The man on the other side of the line chuckled. "What is your name?"

"What?"

"What is your name?"

"Why don't you tell me who the hell you are first?"

"You still don't get it, do you, Pyro? Fine, we'll play it your way. And here I thought you were a smart boy. We could have used you on our side, you know -- in the Brotherhood. You can't even imagine my disappointment when you wanted off the helicopter that day at Alkali Lake. Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" The man sighed heavily. "I'm assuming you have heard about Alcatraz and what happened there? Of course, you have. Everybody knows about how those X-Men in their idiotic matching outfits saved fucking humanity."

He was startled for a moment -- more from the man on the phone swearing, it was strange to hear the cultured voice spit out a profanity like that. But then, it dawned on him. He realized who exactly he was talking to. The news reports...the heightened surveillance...the security alerts... "Magneto..."

"Very good, Pyro."

"But you were..."

"Not dead, my dear boy. Just...cured." He said the last word with as much disgust as a person could have for a single word. "It's partly my fault. Should have known that bastard Wolverine would finally get it through his thick metal skull that he could never defeat me alone. Should have followed my own rules, I guess. First rule of fighting is to always look what's coming at you, Pyro. Second rule is to always look behind you."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Just something you should keep in mind."

"Why?"

"Still not getting it, are you? Let me explain something to you then: those men who came that night? Amateurs. Granted, they were amateurs who probably got there first but amateurs nonetheless. They thought it was going to be easy, a smash and grab job. They, of course, didn't count on the fact that you would actually fight back. Third rule of fighting: don't underestimate your opponent. Crucial, crucial rule to remember."

"I still don't understand. Do you know who they are? What the hell did they want?"

Instead of answering, Magneto mused aloud. "Did you know the cure isn't a cure at all? It's really a misnomer. It's more of a suppressor...a permanent and effective suppressor but not a cure at all. Those doctors at Worthington Laboratories sure did their homework, didn't they? Did you also know that they weren't the only ones working towards a cure, Pyro?"

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"You did love fire, my boy. It's your name, your _real_ name."

--

_You feel like you're swimming...swimming in complete darkness._

_No, wait, not complete darkness. You see it in the distance. A flickering light. It looks like...fire._

_You think you're hallucinating. You can't even think straight -- you feel your lungs are about to burst if you don't take a breath but you know that the moment you open your mouth, it'll be your last._

_You have to find the surface...but someone or something is holding you down, like it wants you to give up. It would be so easy to just slip into oblivion. But you can't let it win. It's not in you not to fight. You're not going to give up, you're definitely no quitter._

_Then, all of a sudden, you break free and you can breathe._

"_Oh my god! He's awake!" someone yells._

_You open your eyes and you see you weren't swimming at all. You're in a bed, machines surround you, a series of beeping noises filling the room. You want to ask the people staring at you with wonder in their eyes questions but realize there's a tube down your throat._

"_We're going to take it out soon. Just hold on."_

_You cough uncontrollably when they do finally take the tube out. Your throat is so dry and scratchy – someone eventually hands you a cup of water._

"_I can't believe it! You're awake!" A woman hugs you so tightly, you feel like your ribs are going to break. She pulls back slightly, smoothing away your hair lovingly...like a mother would. You look at her, trying to figure it out..._

"_Who are you?" you ask. Your voice cracks slightly, still dry even with the water you drank down so greedily._

"_It's me, Ben. It's mom."_

"_Mom?" You try to remember. You feel that you should remember something about her. You should remember your own mother...right?_

"_It's okay, Ben, it's normal. You fell pretty hard on your head. You probably have some memory loss. It'll come back. We're just so glad you're okay."_

_You just nod...wondering if it was normal too that you can't even remember being called Ben before..._

--

He snapped out of his thoughts when Magneto cleared his throat in a very annoyed manner. "You know, I didn't call you just to chitchat."

"Why did you call me? Aren't you suppose to be the bad guy? Why are you helping me?"

Magneto laughed mirthlessly. "Everything's black and white to you, isn't it? X-Men are the good guys so that automatically makes me the bad guy. Well, let me tell you something: every superhero needs an adversary, everyone needs their Moriarty."

"Why don't you stop with the Sherlock Holmes crap and give me some answers?"

"My boy, I'm very impressed. Not a lot of people would have picked up on that. Maybe you're not so stupid after all." He paused for a moment. "I have no ulterior motives in helping you. I just want you to realize who you really are. And besides that, what's an evil ex-mutant going to do in his forced retirement years? Knit? Take up yoga? Maybe start organic farming? I don't think so. I still have associates who haven't completely abandoned me and they have kept me -- shall we say -- informed."

"This isn't exactly giving me answers."

"I'm sorry to say that I don't have any solid answers for you, Pyro. No, scratch that. I'm not sorry. It makes it more fun for me -- the mystery of it all. I just have a lot of speculation about what happened to you. For example, it is my speculation that although you may not be officially registered with any of those government lists, you've been cured of that lovely ability of yours to control fire...your mutation... Did you know you were a mutant, Pyro?"

"You're lying..."

"Am I?"

--

_Joining the fire department wasn't your idea...you think. Your parents tell you that it was your dream to be a fireman but you can't remember if that was true or not. Then again, you can't really remember anything ever since they told you that you fell out of a window and hit your head._

_But why would they lie to you? They're your parents...right?_

_So you joined. And it was actually pretty good. You enjoyed what you did._

_Then came the day you fought your first really big building fire. It was an apartment building -- some guy fell asleep on his couch with a cigarette and his feeble attempts to put out the fire only made things worse._

_You were trying to coax a cat out of its hiding place in a closet. The cat hissed at you on its way out, letting you know exactly how it felt about _your_ feeble attempts, and you realized you should do the same before the ceiling collapsed around you. You finally make it outside when you realize that your arm feels like its on fire._

_They take you to the hospital, just as a precaution. Your parents come when the nurse is bandaging your arm. They look at the blistering skin and they smile at each other, not realizing that you noticed it and wondered why they looked so happy that you got burnt._

--

"They knew... My parents... They knew, didn't they?"

"You still think of them as your parents. How cute."

"What the hell are you talking about now?"

"I think you need to get yourself to New York. You'll find the answers to your past there. As much as I hate to admit it, they'll be able to help you more than I can right now."

"I don't know anybody in New York."

"Don't you? I believe you received some unexpected visitors during your hospital stay."

"What... How did you... Have you been spying on me?"

"Ah, you do know how to make an old man laugh, my boy. Your little incident in Phoenix wasn't exactly hush-hush. It was on every news broadcast in the country. It was even broadcast in some foreign nations too, I might add. Oh, and let's not forget this lovely thing I've just recently discovered called the 'internet.' The story was all over that too. I believe CNN had the most comprehensive coverage, even had a family picture posted there. You and your wife made a fine couple, Pyro. Lovely children also. Quite the family. Well, anyways, getting back to my point, my associates had wanted to see you before those...those morons in their leather suits came but, somehow, they managed to get there first. And I'm sure they didn't leave without letting you know how to contact them when you were ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Ready to realize that the life you've been living has been nothing but a lie, of course."

--

_You search through the photo albums, trying to piece together who you were before your accident._

_There's pictures of what you think is the younger you -- swimming in a friend's pool, dressed up like a pumpkin for Halloween, standing with your parents in front of the Grand Canyon. But then you realize that there is something just not right about these pictures. The boy...he has green eyes._

_When you ask your parents about it, they tell you that the pictures are old, the lighting was probably off in that shot, they're not green, don't be stupid, stop asking, do you want a sandwich, how about a soda... The subject would always get changed no matter how hard you tried to get them to answer your question._

_You want to think that everything is fine. That you'll eventually get your memory back and you'll remember swimming in that pool and dressing in a pumpkin costume and seeing the Grand Canyon with your parents. That you'll remember what you have now was something you've always had._

--

He hung up the phone after the dial tone had been ringing in his ear for the past ten minutes. The conversation had ended as abruptly as it started.

He looked around the room -- it was like he was seeing it for the first time. He could feel the chill creeping through his body.

_Everything was a lie._

He wasn't even sure why he was even listening to a man who had once wanted to destroy the world.

But the things he said...they somehow made sense.

He went back to the closet, he put everything back in the trunk -- the books, the old newspapers, all the clothes. He folded the track pants and the brown shirt and placed them back inside also. He closed the lid and pushed the trunk back where he had found it.

He grabbed the items he had decided to keep with him and went back to the phone.

For some reason, he had kept the business card that the old bald man in the wheelchair had left for him, even though a part of him wanted to tear it into bits and forget they had even came to see him. He could still see it -- the man with the claws, the same one from his dream, dropping on the ground with a bullet hole in his forehead. How had he survived? He guessed he'll find out soon enough.

He took a deep breath.

He was ready.

He flicked open the lighter and then closed it again, the sound of it bringing him some comfort as he dialed.

--

"Hello?"

"Senator?"

"Roger? What is it? Did something happen to my grandchildren?"

"No, no, sir. Everything's fine."

"Then why the hell are you calling at this ungodly hour? And I told you to call me on this line for emergencies only."

"Yes, I know, sir. But you also instructed me to let you know if your son-in-law received or made any unusual calls."

"And?"

"Well, sir, he received a call about an hour and half ago from a number we're still trying to track. But five minutes ago, he made a call to New York."

"Where in New York?"

"Westchester, sir."


	5. Chapter 5

This chapter is entirely flashback.

First part is Ben (John)/Jessica, second part is Remy/Rogue.

--

Phoenix, Arizona

--

She looked at herself in the mirror. It was all that she had imagined, dreamt of, wished for -- the strapless white dress with the tiny pearl buttons, the lacey veil that flowed down her back and onto the floor, the pearl earrings and necklace her grandmother had given her on her sixteenth birthday, the bouquet of pink and white roses clutched tightly between her hands.

She was getting married.

She was getting married to him.

She closed her eyes and remembered the first day she saw him.

They made him climb the ladder, saying that the rookie had to go -- it was all part of the initiation, they said. He just shrugged like it was no sweat off his back and started to climb. All the men and women in uniform chuckled and started taking bets on how long it would take him to get that cat out of the tree. Even the people in the crowd who had gathered around the fire truck wanted in on the betting. But her eyes were only on him. He moved up the ladder with no hesitation, reaching the top of it at a dizzying height but the cat was still just out of reach. She couldn't really tell what he did, the sun in her eyes, but the cat started to gingerly climb down. The cat jumped from limb to limb, until he was just within arm's reach and then jumped again into the arms of his rescuer like it was the most natural thing to do. He reached the ground with the cat snuggled against him, purring with content.

It had taken him a total of five minutes -- four of those minutes used for climbing up and down the ladder. People looked at him in stunned silence for a moment but then erupted in applause and cheer.

Too bad that was the only cat who seemed to like him, she thought with a smile. He was definitely more of a dog person.

She opened her eyes again and sighed. Why had she eavesdropped? Why had she stood there and listened to what they had said to each other? She should have just walked away the moment they said things about him and what happened to him before his accident.

She knew that he was having problems with his memory. He had confided in her, late at night, when they were lying in bed together. She would curl up against his side, he would have one arm around her waist, another arm folded behind his head. She would lay a hand over his heart and he would tell her things in the dark that she knew he didn't tell anyone else. He had told her about the pictures in the photo albums, his suspicions that something was wrong, his parents' refusal to answer his questions.

Other times, when he knew she couldn't sleep because of that extra cup of coffee with dinner or stressed over work, he would lay beside her, stroking the space on her skin between her ribs and hipbone. Then he would start telling her stories...stupid fairy tale stories that she knew he would make up on the spot but claim that he read in some book or another. Some of the stories were so ridiculous, they would end up just laughing and giggling through the night. Her favorite had to be about the one about the giant teddy bear who came to life and went off to save the princess who was trapped in the castle tower.

_I should tell him._

_But I can't._

_He would leave._

"Jessie? Are you ready?"

_I don't want to lose him. I can't even imagine my life without him._

"Jessie?"

She doesn't hear the door opening and she literally jumped when a hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"Jessie? You all right?"

She turned and smiled slightly at her father. "I'm fine."

"Ready to do this?"

"Yeah."

He helped her with the veil and held out his arm for her to take. She entwined her arm into his and they walked out the room together.

The church doors were closed. She could hear the music playing softly inside. The music stopped for a moment.

Then the organist started playing again -- the Bridal March. It was time.

The doors were flung open by the two ushers and her hand tightened on her father's arm.

They walked slowly down the aisle. She doesn't hear or notice the soft murmurings of the people standing in the pews, she doesn't even hear the music. Her eyes were on him and she felt the indecision creeping through her bones again.

_If I don't tell him, it'll haunt him forever._

_But if I tell him, he'll leave. He'll leave and won't come back._

She doesn't even realize when they reach the altar until her father lifted her veil and kissed her cheek. He stepped back and took his seat next to her mother after he said his rehearsed lines to the priest.

It was her last chance.

_Tell him now or forever hold your peace._

She took a breath and made her decision.

She wanted him to lie beside her and stroke that space on her skin between her ribs and hipbone. She wanted him to tell her stupid stories about giant teddy bears who save princesses in towers. She wanted him, lost memories and all.

_It's my wedding day. Can__'__t I be selfish for just one day?_

God help her, she knew he would never forgive her for keeping this from him, but she just couldn't let him go.

--

Savannah, Georgia

--

He was leaning against the door frame to the bedroom, watching her. She was sleeping on her side, away from him. She had on those skimpy boy shorts and a thin cotton camisole. The night was hot and sticky, their air-conditioning on the fritz again. She had opened every window they had in their small apartment but there was no breeze to speak of on this summer night.

He had just come back from working another shift at his job. He had to chuckle quietly to himself. Who would have thought he would be working at a goddamn honest to goodness job? He who made his entire month's paycheck in one night of stealing and conning.

But she was worth it.

She made it worth it.

Ever since he had ran into that convenience store, trying to dodge that pot-bellied cop who had managed to chase him down the street, his life had changed.

He had been roaming up and down the aisles, ducking behind the shelves whenever he saw the cop through the store windows. It was a relief to see the cop finally give up and walk away. He was about to leave the store when he saw her. Actually, the first thing he saw was her booted foot, tapping unconsciously in rhythm to the music that was playing on the store's speakers. His eyes roamed upwards over her bare legs to the short denim skirt, over her frilly blouse to finally rest on her face. She was just standing there, chewing on her finger, trying to decide which candy bar she wanted to buy.

He felt like he was hit by a dozen thunderbolts. He had never believed in love at first sight...hell, he never even believed in love at all. But since that moment, he believed it.

It hadn't been easy, of course. She tried blowing him off -- he was a complete stranger. Girls like her never talked to strangers, especially strangers like him who had trouble written all over him.

She did tell him that she was going to be leaving soon but he had managed to convince her to stay another day, promising to give her the _real_ tour of Savannah. He'd like to think it was just him who got her to stay and not his usual hypnotic charm he used on other girls and sometimes the occasional angry store owner.

But then a day turned into a week, a week turned into a month, a month had turned into two... And, out of nowhere, he realized that they were living together. He had given up on the con games and coming back with other people's wallets, he had a real job, and she was still there with him. And he was actually pretty glad that she was.

They still fought like cats and dogs -- partly over his inability to keep his eyes from roaming, partly over his inability to tell her complete truths, and partly over his inability to throw his dirty clothes in the hamper.

But she stayed. Always gave him another chance. Giving him the benefit of the doubt. Hoping that this time he would change. And, God help him, he _was_ trying...trying to be that better man she deserved.

He pushed himself off from the door frame and slowly walked over to the bed, being careful not to run into anything that might wake her. He crawled on top of the bed towards where she laid. He leaned over her shoulder, just staring at her for a moment while she slept. Her lips were parted slightly, her chest rising slow and steady, tiny beads of perspiration covered her forehead.

He smoothed a hand over her hair -- remembering the time when she finally told him why she had those damn white streaks. He knew she still held onto more secrets, probably as many secrets as he did. He was pretty damn sure that no one would willingly name their daughter Rogue.

His hand came to rest at the small of her back where the camisole rode up a little and a bare patch of skin was visible. He leaned further over her to kiss the corner of her mouth.

He saw her lips curl into a smile in her sleep. He started to grin but as she breathed out a name, his grin and his good mood rapidly disappeared.

"John..."

She didn't wake, just snuggled closer to the pillow she had been clutching.

He got off the bed and slowly backed out of the bedroom as quietly as he entered. Once he got out the front door, he ran as far as possible until he was out of breath and had no idea where he was.

_Now would be a good time to get drunk..._

He went into the first bar he saw and sat himself down in front of the bartender. He ordered a line of tequila and drank them down like they were water.

_Who was he? Had she been thinking about this other guy the whole time they were together?_

God, he did not want to think about _that_.

He needed more to drink.

And in that same dinky little bar, three days later, she found him. He was still sitting on that same barstool, a random blonde girl draped over him, cooing into his ear as his hands glided over what was left of her curves.

Even in his drunken haze, he saw the way her eyes had widened, the shock at seeing him like that written all over her face. He saw the hurt on her face too, heard the anger in her voice as she yelled and screamed at him.

Then he would remember the second chances she had given him, the doubts she would push aside for him, the silent hopes that she knew he could be a good guy if he really tried.

He hadn't even give her a chance to explain who this other guy was. God, he never felt so stupid.

When he finally managed to stumble back to their small little apartment, all of her things were gone. Her car was gone. She was gone.

The only thing she had left behind for him was that damn map.

The map she had tacked into the kitchen wall the first day they had moved in and then every morning right before she made them both some eggs and toast for breakfast, she would trace her finger over the highlighted route she had made so many months ago.

_...through Charleston to Myrtle Beach where I'm gonna lay in the sun and drink beers all day then drive to Raleigh and through Durham where I'm finally gonna have some of that Carolina barbecue then Virginia Beach where I'm gonna lay in the sun and drink beers all day too then Richmond then Fredericksburg then D.C. where I'm gonna go to every single museum then Baltimore then Dover then Atlantic City where I'm gonna lose a whole lot of money then all the way up until I finally reach New York..._

That damn map.

It had been a constant reminder that she would leave. It was like she knew that eventually he would fuck things up and give her a reason to leave.

--

A/N: Just wanted to say that there _is_ a reason for this chapter. And for those of you wondering, Remy will make a reappearance. He still has a bigger part to play.


	6. Chapter 6

She was going to just change her shirt and maybe fix her hair. That was all.

Unfortunately, changing shirt and fixing hair somehow managed to turn into full-scale shower, change outfit twenty times, put on some lipstick, eyeliner would be nice too, spritz perfume, find those cute shoes that you never had the opportunity to wear before, and, oh yeah, that necklace and earrings set would go nicely with the outfit you finally choose to wear.

She ran down the stairs in the most ungraceful manner ever for a girl in a skirt and heels. She was glad that everyone's attention was on someone else at the time.

She skidded to a stop at sight of a hysterically laughing Logan, bent over and clutching his stomach, in the foyer while everyone just watched him with amused expressions on their faces. Well, everyone but Scott, who seemed to find none of this funny.

"What's going on?" Rogue whispered to Jubilee.

"Oh, the usual: Logan laughing at Scott. You missed the introductions, you know. The little girl's Margaret but she likes to be called Maggie. She looks like she's got a real death grip on his hand, doesn't she? And the baby -- oh, gross, is he drooling on his shirt? -- his name is Jack. But I think the best part of it was when the Professor got all flustered and didn't know what to call John. It was like a scene out of _Chinatown_, I swear. He's John...no, he's Ben...John...Ben...John...Ben... Real classic comedy being acted out right here in the mansion, I'm telling you."

"So what _do_ we call him?"

"John Ben? J.B.? Amnesia Boy?"

"Jubilation..."

"He said to just call him John. Said something about getting used to the name and all, you know?" Jubilee's attention had been on Logan the whole conversation but she turned slightly to look at her friend when she noticed Rogue's shoes. "Are those new shoes?" she asked. "Wait a minute, did you change?"

"Just my shirt." Rogue kept her eyes glued to the still laughing Logan but she could feel her face turning hot under Jubilee's stare.

"I'm pretty sure you were wearing jeans this morning. Are you...are you wearing perfume?" Jubilee sniffed the air around Rogue and tried to smother her giggles. "You are! And you're finally wearing that skirt I bought for you!"

"Shut up."

Jubilee just chuckled lightly. "Don't worry. My lips are sealed. I wouldn't dare tell anyone that you made a conscious effort to look pretty for anyone."

"Yeah, right," Rogue scoffed. "This coming from the reigning gossip queen of Westchester county."

Jubilee just grinned happily but Rogue wasn't paying attention to her anymore. She fleetingly noted that all the X-Men were here -- _huh, when did Hank arrive? _-- but she was more interested someone else.

And there he was, standing by the door, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

He was holding his baby in one arm -- Jack was sucking on the ends of John's shirt lapels, a big goofy toothless smile on his face. The little girl she remembered from the museum was practically glued to John's side, clutching his free hand to her chest. She had a mixture of alarm and curiosity expressed on her face as she watched Logan doubled over in laughter. There were two dogs sitting quietly next to them.

"It's not that funny, Logan," Scott said crossly.

"The hell it's not! It's frickin' hilarious!"

"It's just a coincidence, all right?"

"Coincidence, my eye! He's even got the same hairdo as you!" Logan was pointing to the smaller dog, a Pomeranian who just cocked its head at him.

"She." It was the first time John spoke since Rogue came stumbling down the stairs.

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Scott the dog is a girl? Oh God, this is even better..." Rogue didn't think it was possible for a person to laugh as much and as hard as Logan did at this particular moment. So that's what a tomato and a wolverine hybrid would look like, she thought as Logan's face gradually became more and more red from laughter.

The other dog, the bigger dog, started to bark at Logan and jumped on his back.

"Logan, down!"

Everyone fell silent as they just looked at John in amazement. Did he just tell Logan to get down?

It took a moment for them to realize that he was actually talking to the dog.

"You named your other dog Logan?" Jean asked, disbelief written all over her face.

It was now Scott's turn to laugh hysterically. "How do you like them apples?" he yelled out to Logan who suddenly became very very quiet.

"So you have dogs named Scott and Logan," Jubilee said. "Huh...what are the odds of that happening?"

"Err...well, we just kept the name the shelter gave Logan. Scott...actually, Scottie...she was my wife's dog. She named her."

"Sorry..." Logan said contritely. Scott stopped laughing then too, looking a little embarrassed.

"No, it's all right. It's actually...it _is_ pretty funny. You guys do actually look like the dogs, you know?"

Logan looked at the dog that jumped on him and realized that the dog did indeed look like him. "What is he? Part wolf?"

"I think the shelter told us that he's a mix breed, part Husky, part Labrador, or something like that. He's very easygoing. Likes to wander off a bit though..."

There was a pause in the conversation then, an awkward silence descended on the group. Rogue was reminded of the other time when there was an awkward silence, a long time ago.

John cleared his throat -- obviously he never got over his dislike of these kinds of silences, Rogue thought. "So you don't get along with him, huh?"

Logan snorted. "That's putting it mildly."

"You know that's funny too."

"Why's that?"

"Because the dogs -- they love each other."

"What?!" Logan and Scott said together.

"Yeah, they groom each other. When Logan wanders off, Scottie will follow him. Sometimes Logan will let Scottie ride on his back. They'll be curled up next to each other when they go to bed too."

"Oh my God, they sleep together!" Kitty exclaimed. "Do they snuggle too?"

"All the time," John grinned. "We were even thinking about having one of those doggie commitment ceremonies for them."

Everyone started to laugh, even the Professor couldn't suppress his snickering.

It was probably the only time that Logan and Scott could agree something -- this was not so funny anymore.

--

Rogue and Jubilee took John on the grand tour of the mansion. Maggie was still holding onto his hand, refusing to let go even with the promise of a popsicle and the chance to meet and play with the other kids here. Jack had fallen asleep a long time ago, still drooling on John's shirt.

"So that was the kitchen. I guess we should show you where you'll be staying," Jubilee said. "It's upstairs. I think the Professor gave you guys one of the bigger rooms. So...um...let's go upstairs!"

Jubilee let John walk ahead before pulling Rogue aside for a moment. "You know, feel free to jump in anytime, Rogue. I mean, what the hell? Are you going to say anything?"

"Wh...what are you talking about?"

"We're suppose to be doing this together, Rogue! And your mumbled responses are leaving much to be desired." Jubilee sighed dramatically when Rogue didn't have an answer to that. "Just...just try to think of something to say, all right? It's getting a little weird with me doing all the talking."

Rogue gave her an incredulous look.

"Yes, I did say it was getting weird with me doing all the talking! I'm not _that_ big of a motor-mouth, okay? I, too, like the other person to talk also. I believe that's what they call a conversation. And besides that, you really want me to point out that I'm not the one who got all gussied up for a certain someone's big arrival?"

Rogue gave her a disgruntled look. "All right, all right. I'll try to be more...conversational."

"Um...you guys coming?" John called out from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Jubilee responded. "We're coming!"

Jubilee and Rogue hurried up the stairs and continued the tour.

"So...that way is the girl's dormitories and that way is the boy's. But you'll be over here with the staff. This is my room, I share it with Kitty," Jubilee said, pointing to the door decorated top to bottom with pictures cut out of magazines -- pictures of various celebrities. "Err...she's such a celebrity hound, that Kitty. Nothing but gossip gossip gossip with her... If you ever feel the need to know who's dating whom in Hollywood, she'd be your source! Heh..." Jubilee laughed nervously. "Anyways, that's Rogue's room over there. Rogue? Don't you have something say?"

"Uh...yeah, that's my room."

Jubilee rolled her eyes at her weak response. "And over here's your room."

She opened the door for all of them, mouthing the word 'lame' to Rogue as she passed by.

They stood in the middle of the room, looking around.

"There's an adjoining room over here. Err...bathroom, closet, bed, dresser... Oh crap, Peter was suppose to put together a crib for you. That idiot... I'm going to go find him and tell him off for you. Rogue, you continue the tour, I'll be right back." And with that, Jubilee was out the door.

"Jubilee!" The door had already slammed shut and Rogue had to turn back to look at him, a sheepish look on her face. "Uh...sorry about that."

John just stared at her, his brow furrowing slightly. "I remember you...from somewhere."

"You do?" she squeaked out.

Rogue felt her heart beat faster. _He remembers me? Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God..._

Maggie tugged on his hand, making him bend down slightly. She cupped her small hands around his ear and whispered something to him.

"That's right. Now I remember," he said, straightening and shifting Jack over to his other arm. Maggie didn't have his hand to hold onto anymore so she just clung to the ends of his shirt with both hands. She hid herself behind her father but still looked at Rogue, a small shy smile curving her lips. "You were at the museum."

Ego deflated, Rogue tried to hide her disappointment. "Um...yeah, I was." She paused for a moment, trying to decide what to say next. "That was your wife with you...that day?"

"What? Oh, right. She was there too, wasn't she?" He looked lost in memory for a second before chuckling, "She thought you were my ex-girlfriend or something."

Rogue forced out a laugh. "Funny."

God hates me, she thought.

As if he could sense her discomfort -- or maybe he didn't want to talk about his wife anymore, she didn't know which -- he changed the subject. "So...are you a teacher here too?"

"Uh...yeah. Jubilee and I teach the kindergarten class here. Well, not so much teach but try to keep them occupied for most of the day." She paused for a moment, looking at Maggie who was still hiding behind her father. "Oh, hey, your daughter should be able to join us. We're doing finger-painting next week. She can come if she wants to."

He turned slightly to look down at Maggie who decided that suddenly the hem of her father's shirt was very interesting. "What do you think, Maggie? You want to try it out? Maybe meet some new friends?"

Her response was to bury her face into his side and her hands reaching out to cling to his arm that was holding up her sleeping brother.

"Come on, Maggie. Remember how much you liked going to pre-school?" Maggie just burrowed herself further, shaking her head 'no.' "Maybe some other time."

"Well...um...the invitation's open, if she wants to come later."

"Thanks."

It was a start, Rogue thought. She had a normal conversation with him, managed not to make too much of a fool out of herself, and also restrained herself from shaking him and demanding to know why he couldn't remember anything or anyone.

Yes. It was a very good start.

--

She couldn't sleep.

Not that she hadn't tried. She counted sheep, cows, the cracks in the walls and on the ceiling (_probably should tell the Professor about those_), back to sheep, then finally decided maybe a breath of fresh air was what she really needed.

She slipped out of the mansion quietly and walked aimlessly around the grounds.

After ten minutes of wandering, she realized she wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

He was standing at the edge of one of the koi ponds that dotted the gardens Storm had meticulously planned out. He was throwing bits of bread into the pond; she knew that Storm would not approve but didn't try to stop him. It looked therapeutic for him and she wasn't going to be the one to tell him that Storm had these fishes on a strict diet and feeding schedule.

He turned away from the thrashing fish, the last of the bread long gone now, and saw her standing on top the small hill that overlooked the pond. She started to descend towards him. She stopped when she was standing in front of him.

They stood there, just looking at each other. Him, curious about who exactly she was and what part of his past she fit into and wondering what she was going to do next because she seemed to be the most interesting one out of all the people he had met so far at this place. Her, wondering if reading all those trashy romance novels Jubilee had given her on her birthday had finally eaten through her brain because she couldn't think of anything to say to him, not even something lame and stupid like 'how are you?' or 'what's going on?' or 'still can't remember anything, huh?'

She instead choose to impulsively kiss him.

When she finally pulled back from his lips, she saw the look of surprise on his face and she blushed something fierce when she realized what she had done.

"Don't say anything," she implored. Then she started to run away, her hair flying behind her. She turned back briefly to yell out to him, "Welcome home!"


	7. Chapter 7

"I kissed him," she murmured. "I kissed John."

She waited for the inevitable reaction of either horror or glee or even a combination of both but neither was forthcoming. All she heard was, "Georgia, stop eating the paste."

"Jubilee, did you hear me?"

"Seriously, why are you eating that? Here, have some yummy Play-Doh instead. So colorful and delicious. Nontoxic too. Now, kids, me and Miss Marie here are gonna go into the supply room and have a nice little chat so be good and, Robbie, no powers. Or I'm going to take all your little toy soldiers and...well, you remember what happened last time, right?"

The little boy with the bright orange hair gave Jubilee a disgruntled look but nodded in agreement.

"Good... David, you're in charge." Then Jubilee took Rogue by the arm and dragged her into the other room.

"Uh, Jubes, was that a good idea? Leaving David in charge? He eats the paste too..." She was cut short from finishing her sentence.

"You did what?! You kiss him?!" Jubilee burst out as she closed the door behind her. "Is this why you acting all skittish all weekend whenever he was around? Ho-lee crap!"

"Will you keep your voice down?"

"Sorry..." Jubilee paused for the briefest of seconds before continuing. "But seriously, girl, what the hell? You gotta give me details here. Where were you guys? Was it good? Did he kiss you back? And why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Look, I'm embarrassed enough as it is -- I don't know why I'm even telling you this now. It's not exactly like you can keep a secret."

"I resent that. Have I told anybody about your really really_ really_ sad attempt to chicken dance at that frat party?"

"Well, let's see: Kitty, Logan, Storm, Peter, Warren..." Rogue was counting down the people on her fingers.

"That's not just anybody. They're...they're family! They don't count."

"...the newspaper boy, that cashier at the 7-11, the hotdog vendor at Penn Station, the cabbie who you decided needed a reenactment..."

Jubilee sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. "All right! All right! I have a big mouth! Happy now?"

They were both silent for a moment. Jubilee looked at her friend, wondering if Rogue would tell her anything more because she was absolutely dying for information.

_This is big. This is bigger than big. What could have possibly possessed her? I knew she had feelings for him but damn... God, she better give me details...she can't leave me hanging here...like she did the last time…damn her...she better tell me...or I'll have to resort to violence...or singing 100 bottles of beer on the wall...  
_

"I couldn't sleep. So I went outside for a little bit. I saw him throwing bread to the fish."

"The koi? Storm's precious precious fish?"

Rogue shrugged. "He looked like he needed something to do. Anyways, so I saw him throwing bread and he turned around and saw me watching him. And...then...I don't know...I just..."

"Kissed him?"

Rogue blushed furiously, looking away from Jubilee.

"Can I...can I ask you something personal?"

"Since when have you started to ask first?"

Jubilee pursed her lips in annoyance. "Well?"

"You can ask. I'm not sure if I'll answer, all right?"

"Fair enough... Remember a long time ago, you started to tell me something...that day after the boys got so ragingly stupidly drunk on Bobby's birthday? Which, by the way, I still have no idea how they got their hands on so much frickin' alcohol... Damn all this secrecy... But, anyways, getting back to my point: something that happened between you and John that night..." Jubilee stopped talking as she saw the stony expression on Rogue's face. Jubilee knew that expression -- it was that expression that said you'll-never-ever-ever-ever-ever-find-out-and-even-when-I'm-dead-and-gone-you'll-still-won't-know-anything.

As the resident busybody, Jubilee was more than curious about what exactly happened that night. She had the feeling that something very intense had occurred between them. It was more than likely too that Rogue was the only one who remembered what had happened considering how much alcohol was consumed that night by those boys. The only comfort she had was that Rogue hadn't told anybody else what happened either, not even Logan. It would have killed her if she knew that somebody else had more information than her, especially that overgrown Sasquatch.

But she couldn't think about that -- Rogue needed her to be comforting!Jubilee, not gossip-hound!Jubilee right now.

"It's not the end of the world, you know? That you kissed him, I mean."

"I know that. It's just..."

"Look, Rogue, it's not the end of the world. _Seriously_. Come on, I've done stupider things than that. Remember when I used that Sharpie when I ran out of eyeliner? And I couldn't wash it off for weeks? Besides, you're not going to be able to avoid him forever. Maybe the weekend...but I'm pretty sure you're going to have to face him again. I doubt he's going anywhere anytime soon."

"I know."

They were both quiet, lost in their own thoughts.

Then Jubilee nudged Rogue with her shoulder. "So...was it any good? Did you cop a feel too?" Jubilee wriggled her eyebrows at her friend.

"Jubilee!"

"What? You know I love to know these kinds of things! And my own love life sucks so I have live vicariously through you!"

"You know that's seriously messed up, right? Come on. Let's go back to the kids, all right? I'm surprised no one hasn't screamed or yelled yet."

"Just tell me if it was any good!"

Rogue laughed as they walked back into the classroom.

"Miss Marie! Miss Jubilee!" David called out in a nervous sing-songy voice. "Robbie cut Sam! He was playing with the big person scissors! I told him not to but he wouldn't listen!"

"What?" Rogue and Jubilee said together. Their eyes scanned the room to see Sam standing in the corner, holding one of his fingers in his hand, a small trail of blood trickling down his arm.

"We were gone for only a couple of minutes!" Jubilee exclaimed.

"It was an accident!" Robbie yelled out. "I didn't mean to do it! He made me do it!"

"What happened?" Rogue asked, as patiently as possible, even though on the inside she was completely freaking out. She tore some paper towels off from the roll on the table and held Sam's finger tightly between her hands to staunch the bleeding.

"We were just playing... He dared me… Please don't take my soldiers! You said not to use our powers! And I didn't! I swear!" Robbie's bottom lip trembled, looking like he was about to burst out in tears. His five-year-old logic was not lost on the two teachers.

"I better take him to the med lab. He might need some stitches," Rogue said.

"All right." Jubilee was holding Robbie, trying to calm the boy down. A distraction was needed before the whole class started to cry too. "Who wants to help pick out a book for today's reading circle?"

"I do! I do!" everyone, including Robbie who had forgotten all about Sam and his precious toys now, shouted excitedly.

"Come on, Sam," Rogue said, still holding Sam's bleeding finger in her hand.

"But I'm gonna miss reading circle!" he whined.

Rogue gave him an exasperated look before pulling him along by the hand.

--

_Oh God, what's he doing here?_

When Rogue stepped inside the med lab, the last person she had expected to see was him. And she had been doing such a good job avoiding him.

God really hates me, she thought.

He was standing over a plastic bassinet where Jack was laying, kicking his legs and gurgling in fascination at the fluorescent lights. Maggie was standing next to him, watching as Hank listened to Jack's heart through a stethoscope.

"Uh...hi, guys," she said with false cheer as they all turned to see who had entered the room.

"Rogue! What happened?" Hank asked, putting away the stethoscope and rushing over to them the moment he saw the blood stained paper towels.

"We had a little accident."

"Oh dear..." Hank peeled back the paper towels and took a look at the wound. "It doesn't look like it's too deep. Some rubbing alcohol and a band-aid should do the trick."

Sam winced at the thought of the rubbing alcohol -- he remembered the last time it was administered and how Robbie had howled the moment Dr Grey had dabbed his wounded knee. But then he noticed the other people in the room, particularly the blonde little girl peering behind some guy's legs. Sam straightened and tried to put on his brave face. He didn't want to look like a wimp, _especially_ in front of a girl.

"Sam, why don't you sit down on the chair over there and we'll get this done quickly, all right?"

"I'm not scared!" Sam said proudly.

"Uh, okay... I still need you to sit down, okay?" Hank said, a little confused at Sam's sudden outburst. He watched as Sam sat down and held out his finger, trembling slightly but looking determined as ever.

Rogue bit her lip as Hank dabbed the wound, a grimace forming as she could only imagine the sting the alcohol would bring to the little boy. She was surprised that Sam didn't cry out, just sat there as Hank cleansed the wound and bandaged the finger.

"There you go...good as new! Some of my best work yet! Uh...Sam? Sam?"

The boy had been clenching his teeth so hard, it made an audible sound when he finally released them. "I'm fine! I'm fine! I wasn't scared!"

"Okay," Hank said, a puzzled expression on his face. "Well, Rogue, just make sure he doesn't play with the band-aid and he should be fine."

"Thank you, Hank." She turned to take Sam's hand again so they could walk back to class but was stopped when _he_ called out her name.

"Uh, Rogue! Wait, can I talk to you for a minute? It won't take long. Please?"

She had her back to him. She had to close her eyes as a battle of emotions that played across her face. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Sam looking up at her questioningly.

"Of course," she said, schooling her expression again. "Wait for me here, all right, Sam?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said primly, sitting back down.

John followed her out the sliding doors to the hallway.

They stood there, looking at each other.

_God, this is getting repetitive. Hopefully I won't end up kissing him again and then running away like some kind of madwoman._

"Hey..." John started, looking uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to decide how to go about having this conversation. "Uh...look, I've been meaning to ask you something but...well...uh... Sorry...I'm just not sure how to ask you this."

"Just ask me." Why was she talking in such a breathless tone? She coughed slightly to cover up.

"Well...um...you remember how I told you that my wife thought you were...uh...my ex...girlfriend...or something..."

"Yeah..."

"We...uh...weren't...were we? I mean...dating...and...stuff...before...you know..."

"No! I mean...no, of course not!" Rogue forced out a laugh, she hoped he didn't notice there was no humor in it. "What made you think that?"

He looked at her strangely. "Well, that night...by the koi pond... And then the whole avoiding thing you had going on during the weekend..."

"Oh! Right! Sorry about that! I guess I should have explained." She stalled for a second, trying to come up for an explanation on the spot.

_Something plausible, something plausible, come on, Rogue, think, think, think! It was a knee-jerk reaction… I'm on medication… I have brain damage… I've been diagnosed as a nymphomaniac…_

"You know, where I come from, we do that all the time!" _Bravo, Rogue, well done._ Even her brain was against her. "Yeah...it's just our way of saying...you know, welcome!" She let out a nervous laugh, hoping against hope that he would buy her explanation.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah...you should see us down in Mississippi. Our state motto is 'we kiss everybody'!" She sounded a little hysterical. Okay, maybe more than a little hysterical. And when did she start talking a mile a minute? It was like Jubilee had taken over her body and was speaking for her.

"So we weren't..."

"We were...I mean, we _are_ friends. You're my friend, John. Just a friend. That's all." She had to bit her lip from saying anything more and making a complete lovesick fool out of herself...again.

He was silent for a moment, looking like he was digesting this information. "I wanted to apologize anyways... I mean, when you guys were showing us around and I made that remark about the whole girlfriend thing... I wasn't sure if I had put my foot in my mouth and I've offended you or something... I wish I could remember things...people..."

She reached out and held his hand. "You will."

He grinned wryly. "It's been ten years...at least, that's what people have been telling me. That's a pretty long time..."

"You will," she said, gripping his hand harder. "You're here. And...and...we're all here too...for you... If you need help, all you need to do is ask."

He looked like he was going to take her up on that offer when the door slid open and Hank popped his head out. "Uh...sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know I'm done with the tests for now. And I think the kids are getting restless so I'm going to take them back upstairs."

"No, no...I'll take them," John said as they all walked back into the room.

"It's quite all right. Actually, I think Sam has a slight crush." Rogue wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't been standing right there but Hank actually giggled...like a schoolgirl. When he spoke again, it was in a very hushed tone. "I was doing my examination on Jack -- a very healthy baby, no worries there, although he did have an inordinate fascination with my fur."

"He likes blue," John said, shrugging slightly.

Hank smiled at the remark. "So I'm doing my examination and I had my back to Sam and Maggie -- they were sitting together by the door -- when I saw one of my beakers flying across the room. I turned around and Sam was trying to look innocent while holding that beaker in his hand. I'm pretty sure he was showing off to your young daughter."

"I was not!" Sam yelled out to them who overheard the entire conversation. Sam's entire face turned a bright shade of red.

"It's all right, Sam," Rogue said, soothingly, even though she was trying to stifle her own laughter. "Why don't you follow Dr McCoy upstairs? He'll take you back to class."

Hank picked up Jack from the bassinet. "Would you liked me to take Jack also? He seems quite content here." Jack was snuggled down in Hank's arms, cooing into his fur. "Such a happy baby..."

"Uh, sure. Maggie, you want to go with them too?" The little girl gave Sam a shy smile then nodded to her father.

"I was _not_ showing off!" Sam muttered under his breath but he looked very glad when Maggie followed them out the door.

"It never ceases to amaze me," John laughed, shaking his head.

"What's that?"

"How kids adapt to everything and anything. One moment she won't leave my side, now she abandons me at the first sight of a boy."

"Well, Sam is a very good catch. He has his own box of 64 crayons."

"Family heirloom, huh?"

Rogue giggled. "They're very good crayons."

They smile, enjoying the moment. It was John who looked away first.

He cleared his throat, looking a little nervous and hesitant again. "Hey, I've been hoping to ask somebody about this. I mean, I would have asked Xavier about it but I don't know...he doesn't seem to be all knowing as he looks. He's given me some basic information but I get the feeling that he isn't being completely honest with me. He still hasn't told me how I even ended up here, at this school. Or what happened to my real parents. Or why the hell he wanted Hank to check over my kids."

"I'm sure he has a good reason..."

John sighed heavily, disappointment clearly written on his face. "Never mind. Let's go back upstairs."

She grabbed his hand again, stopping him from turning away from her. "No, wait. I said I would help you so...tell me. Wh...what is it?"

She watched as he dug around in his pockets, pulling something out for her to see. "Does this mean anything?"

Her eyes widen at the sight of the shark Zippo held in his hand. "You still have it?"

"So...it _is_ mine."

"I think...I think we should talk."


	8. Chapter 8

The kids were brought outside after classes were finished for the day. They were led to the small playground that had been recently built just behind the mansion.

Some of the kids ran to claim one of the seats on the swing set or to be the first to ride down the slide but most had decided to gang attack an unsuspecting Hank, screaming and yelling with glee. Hank faked a growl which scared only a few of the newer kids but most of then knew the big blue man wouldn't even hurt a fly. One by one, Hank had managed to get most of the kids off but they only re-grouped and attacked again.

Jubilee had taken charge of Jack once he drooled himself out on Hank -- she _did_ have a designer shirt to consider -- and was given a pacifier; she also took some extra towels as a precaution. She carried Jack over to where Kitty was sitting nearby, a blanket already spread out on the grass.

Peter came outside, looking for Kitty but, instead, he was greeted by a welcoming battle cry of 'get him!' It was only a matter of time before both Hank and Peter had kids hanging off of them -- on their backs, their arms, their legs. It was Peter who was brought down first and there was much rolling in the grass and uncontrollable giggle-fits before either of them could get back up on his feet.

Logan (the dog) and Scottie trotted past the pile of screaming children toward where Jubilee and Kitty were sitting. The dogs took turns licking Jack's face while he used the dogs as leverage to try to sit himself upright. Jack would eventually tumble over -- which made Kitty babble on and on about babies' soft spots and brain development -- but the dogs would just instinctively know to shift over to let him try again.

Rogue and John were sitting under one of the big oak trees that provided a good amount of shade, where they had been talking quietly for awhile.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He looked lost in thought for a moment. "Yeah...no...I don't know... Christ..." She just watched as he ran a hand through his hair. "So I was the resident asshole, huh?"

"You weren't an asshole...just...very opinionated." She chewed on her lip in worry, wringing her hands together. "You were always nice to me."

They just sat there, under the tree, in silence. He was staring off into the distance while she kept sneaking glances at him, wondering what he could be thinking.

"I haven't been sleeping much lately," he said suddenly. She kept silent, waiting for him to continue. "I keep having this dream."

"Of..." she started, hesitantly, "of that night when your wife..." She just trailed off, she couldn't finish that question out loud.

"I wish..." he snorted. She certainly didn't like the sound of that. "I've been having this dream...for awhile...before I even met Jess… Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Was I...was I ever in Boston?"

"What?"

"My dream...you're in it. And Logan. And another guy -- I think I saw him here at the mansion, I'm not sure what his name is. We're all standing in front of this house...on the front porch, I think. There's police everywhere...police cars on the lawn...they're surrounding us. I see Logan getting shot and then you and..."

"Bobby. His name is Bobby."

"So it wasn't just my overactive imagination…"

She nodded.

"Did I...did I do something?"

"What?" She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that somewhere deep down inside of him, his subconscious would remember that day. _That_ day of all days.

"Did I do something stupid? Something bad?" he asked quietly, his attention caught by the sight of his daughter in the distance. She was talking and giggling with a group of girls. One would think they were all the bests of friends instead of kids who had met just a few hours ago. She looks like she did before all this mess happened, he thought.

"I don't know where to start," she murmured, staring down at her hands.

"Just tell me."

"The school was attacked…by some people," she said vaguely. "We…you, me, Bobby, and Logan escaped together. We went to Boston -- Bobby's family lives there, we were at their house that day. Bobby's brother, Ronnie, had called the police on us...because we were...we were mutants. Logan tried to get us out of the house but the police...they were already at the house. They had us surrounded. Logan...he was trying to reason with them." She gave out a short huff of laughter at the memory. "I think that was the only time I've seen him try to be reasonable, he's usually in fight-now-talk-later mode. I think he was so calm only because we were there with him and he couldn't defend all of us at the same time, you know? One of the policemen got spooked though and shot him. I don't think he meant to shoot... I don't know. Then they demanded that the rest of us get down on the ground. Bobby and I did. But you...you just stood there. Then I hear you say..." She hesitated. This wasn't something that she wanted to tell him. She could tell him about anything else but not this...

"What did I say?"

Damnit...why did she bring that last part up? "You said..."

She could remember like it was yesterday. She had never seen him look so fierce and determined like he did on that day, at that moment.

_I'm the worst one…_

"You know what? It was nothing. And…I don't even think I heard you right."

"Rogue..."

"Please...don't make me tell you..."

They were both silent, the sounds of the children playing, most of them still crawling all over Hank and Peter, filling the air.

"Did I...did I hurt anybody?"

She bit her lip. "I don't think so."

"Was it bad?"

"It wasn't...terrible."

"Rogue..."

She sighed heavily, brushing away a loose strand of hair from her face. "You were just defending us. And they did shoot first…so…it was justifiable."

She turned to look at him but he was just staring off into space again. She wondered if he would ask what else had happened -- would she tell him about how she had used her own mutation against him? how they had argued later that night by the campfire?

He stood up all of a sudden, startling her. He started to walk away.

"John? John?" She got on her feet to follow him. "Wait!"

He stopped for a brief moment, his back to her. "I need to go feed Jack. I'll see you later." He paused before saying, "Thank you."

He continued walking toward where Jubilee and Kitty were trying to calm a cranky and squirmy Jack, his pacifier falling out of his mouth. The moment Jack saw his father come into his view, he reached out his chubby little hands for him.

Rogue stood by the oak tree and watched as he picked up Jack, saying something to Jubilee and Kitty. He called out to Maggie who just nodded in reply and went back to playing with her new friends. He disappeared inside the mansion, the two dogs trailing after him.

She started to follow him again when someone stopped her.

"Rogue!"

She saw Bobby coming towards her. "What do you want?"

"I...uh...I...I saw you talking with him."

"Yeah, so?"

"What were you guys talking about?"

"What do you think we were talking about?"

Bobby just stared at her. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"

She sighed, wondering when this conversation had suddenly become about _him_. "We've talked about this already when I came back."

"Can't we go back to where we used to be?"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Go back to where they used to be? He couldn't be that naive, could he? Then again, this _was_ Bobby.

"I have to go," she told him, trying to walk around him.

He grabbed her arm. "Just tell me something first. Are doing this for him or for you?"

"What the hell are you talking about now?"

"Are you telling him _everything_? You're not glossing over a few facts?"

A satisfying crack went through the air as her hand made contact with his cheek. "Fuck you, _Drake_." She shoved him out of her way.

--

She knocked on his door but there was no answer. She knocked again, a little harder and louder, but still no answer. She chewed on her finger out of nervous habit, trying to decide what to do. She had already looked in all the other obvious places he could be. She just wanted to make sure he was all right.

She opened the door and took a look around. Jack was in a crib, sleeping soundly, mouth hanging wide open. Logan (the dog) and Scottie were sitting outside of the bathroom door -- they just looked at her as she entered but didn't bark or growl at her presence.

Then the bathroom door opened and there he stood...shirtless and a little bit taken aback to see her in the room.

_Wow. Whatever workout regime the fire department has...it's working... Workout working...heh... Okay, what the heck is the matter with my brain?_

She flushed and started to stammer. "I...I...I'm sorry! I knocked twice but I guess you didn't hear me." She _absolutely_ had to stop talking like Jubilee. "I just wanted to make sure...you know...you were okay..."

She started to fidget around the room, another nervous habit, stopping only to smooth out a blanket that was folded over the dresser as a makeshift changing table. She fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket, just to have something to do and not ogle him like a piece of meat.

"Jack just decided to spit up the milk instead of actually drinking it. Got all over my shirt."

"Oh! Right! Of course! Spilt milk! Right!" What is wrong with her brain now? It was like two words were her maximum limit for sentences. She had to resist the urge to thump herself on the head.

"Err...Rogue? You're blocking the dresser."

"Sorry!" She jumped out of the way.

When he reached out to open one of the drawers, she couldn't help but stare. Her hormones were going into overdrive, leaving her feeling all achy and tingly and...melt-y.

_Wait, melt-y? Was that a word?  
_

Her gaze roamed over him while he was searching for a shirt. She inwardly winced when she saw the scars from the bullets he must have gotten that fateful night. Then her eyes fell on his arm and she gasped. She jerked him closer to get a better look, surprising him as the shirt he pulled out fell to the floor.

"What happened?" she asked as she skimmed her hand over the red ragged mark. She never noticed it before, he always had on long sleeved shirts for some reason or he was carrying Jack or Maggie or even one of the dogs around in his arms. Then again, right now when he had nothing covering it up, it had taken her another good five minutes before noticing the obvious discoloration. Hey, she had a good excuse...it wasn't like a good sane healthy girl was going to look _there_ when she had all that other muscle-y goodness in front of her.

_Was muscle-y a word? Brain, stop messing around!_

He looked down to where she was touching, remembering the time when he had gotten burnt during that first fire. For some reason, the skin had never healed properly even with all those ointments and lotions his doctor had prescribed for him.

He shrugged and dismissively said, "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," she murmured. "It doesn't hurt?"

"No. Not really…"

She was tracing the outline of the mark -- it looked like Australia to her, complete with the small island of Tasmania at the bottom. She was going to tell him that when she realized how much closer they had gotten, he was only a few inches away. She felt herself sway against him, brushing against his chest -- she doesn't even realize how tense he became.

"I don't..." he started to say.

The mood was broken when someone loudly cleared his throat from the open doorway.

"Logan!" She was even more surprised when Logan (the dog) barked and trotted over to her, Scottie following close by. The dogs sat at her feet, tails wagging, and waited expectantly for her do something or, at the very least, give them treats.

"I think she was talking to me, buddy," Logan (the man) growled. Logan (the dog) gave Logan (the man) what could only be described as a sniff of disdain as the two dogs settled back in their place next to the crib. "Jesus, they do cuddle."

"Did you need something?" John asked, pulling a shirt on over his head -- much to Rogue's dismay.

"Right...you got a package. A big friggin' box too." Logan went back into the hallway and came back in the room, carrying the 'big friggin' box.' "Where do you want it?"

"Uh...over there, I guess."

Logan dropped the box on the bed, watching it bounce a little bit on the springs, before turning around and arching a brow to Rogue.

"So...um...what's in the box?" Logan asked, clearly trying to delay his exit.

_Does he think I need a chaperone? We weren't doing anything. At least, not yet... Oh my God, brain, seriously…just stop it…_

She was startled out of her thoughts when she finally heard Logan calling out her name. "Rogue! You okay?"

"What?"

"Your face...you're all red... You sure you're not coming down with something? You want to go downstairs and have Jean check you over?"

She gritted her teeth. He _was_ trying to act like a frickin' chaperone. Cripes. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Hank's down there too -- well, I think he is. Probably has a couple of kids still hanging off of him...but he's down there and you know, he was showing me this really nifty thermometer..."

She dug her fingers into Logan's arm, pulling him to one of the corners of the room. "Excuse us for a second." John just looked at them, wondering what the hell was going on. "What are you doing?" she hissed at him.

"Why are we whispering? And, damnit, that's starting to hurt! Ever hear of a nail clipper?"

Her fingers only dug in even deeper. "I asked you a question! What are you doing?"

"I'm just here...making small talk...shooting the breeze..."

"Bullshit."

"Rogue! Language!"

She rolled her eyes, this was just too much. Was he really admonishing her for this? Him? The frickin' Wolverine? The one who taught her and probably the rest of the mansion's residents most, if not all, the curse words in their vocabulary? "He got some milk on his shirt, he was just changing... Nothing happened. And why are you making such a big deal about this anyways? I lived with a guy for six months and you weren't so worked up about him... Whatever happened to the whole 'I'm not your father, I'm your friend' deal, huh?"

"Yeah, well, I lied. And you don't want to be reminding me of that assho...I mean, that idiot ex-boyfriend of yours. He's lucky he wasn't in arm's reach..."

"What? So you can do to him what you did to Bobby? Yeah, I heard all about that when I got back."

He was decent enough to look embarrassed. "He deserved what he got," he muttered.

"Wasn't arguing with you there..."

Logan gave her a skeptical look, giving his own sniff of disdain. "Well, next time you're feeling frisky, you should probably close the door. And make sure I'm dead and buried -- under six feet of dirt and concrete. In fact, make sure I'm in whole 'nother country with a gigantic mountain on top of my grave..."

"Nothing happened!"

He went on like she hadn't interrupted, "…a gigantic mountain and a soundproof fence around it because I don't ever want to know about you doing…_that_..."

"Logan!" At the sound of his name being called again, Logan (the dog) raised his head.

"Christ, I'm gonna need to change my name now... I need a drink." Logan (the man) rubbed a hand over his face, clearly disgruntled. He looked at Rogue then at John, narrowing his eyes in warning although John only looked back in confusion.

Before leaving the room, Logan (the man) said, "I'm gonna leave the door open. Just in case..."

John looked at Rogue for some kind of explanation, but she could only offer him an apologetic smile.

She was desperate for a change in subject. Her eyes fell on the box Logan had left behind on the bed.

"It looks like it's been all around the country." The mailing address was crossed off so many times, there seemed to be little room for a return address. "Who's it from?"

He shifted awkwardly on his feet. He was still trying to get his head around what she had told him and he just needed some time alone to sort it all out.

"Well? What's in it?" She can be oblivious when she wanted to be. She knew he wanted to be alone. But leaving him alone would only result in intense brooding and probably some sulking. He might be different in many ways now but some things could never change. Deep down inside, somewhere under that dark morass of memory loss, he was still the John she knew. She wanted to believe that. "Let's open it!"

"Uh...okay..." Reluctantly, he ripped open the tape from the box and opened it. He started to pull out some of the items inside -- t-shirts, dresses, baby bibs, shoes...

"How did...? Are these...from your house?"

"I asked one of my neighbors to send them... I didn't pack enough clothes for the kids."

"So all the addresses on the box...?"

He just shrugged. "Can't be too careful. Even called him from a payphone in some no-name town just to be sure..."

She didn't know how to respond to that; she just kept quiet and watched him as he peeled off an envelope that was taped to the inside of the box.

_Hey,_

_All this secrecy, feels like James Bond, man. Or at least, a poor man's Austin Powers, right? Yeah, I'm a real fucking comedian...  
_

_Well, I packed all the clothes you wanted me to send and a couple of extra stuff for you. Call me a sentimental bastard but I'd thought you might want to have them with you._

_Anyways, hope you're well. God, that sounds stupid... Sorry about that. Letter writing is definitely not my forte._

_Frank.  
The best damn firefighter (and neighbor) in the entire state of Arizona and you know it. HA!  
_

_P.S. If you can, give us a ring at the firehouse. The guys are wondering where you are and you know how the captain worries. Like a friggin' mother hen, I'm telling ya. And tell Maggie she owes me another rousing game of Chutes and Ladders -- I know that little minx cheated the last time._

He folded the letter back up again and put it back into the envelope, a small grin forming on his lips. He chuckled when he spotted the Chutes and Ladders board game packed neatly between Jack's stuffed giraffe and Maggie's Dora the Explorer blanket. But that laughter died quickly when he saw the videotapes that were packed also.

Rogue felt her eyes start to tear -- along with an overwhelming sense of guilt washing over her -- as John traced his fingers over the handwriting on the tapes. One tape said 'wedding day' on it, another 'Maggie's birthday,' another said 'Jack's homecoming.' It was obvious who wrote those labels.

"Uh...hi, guys!" Jubilee said cheerfully, stumbling into the room. "Just wanted to return this to you. Thought Jack would miss it." She held out the forgotten pacifier to John.

Jubilee stood next to Rogue, lowering her voice so only her friend could hear. "I'm sorry... Logan threatened to do bodily harm to my _Gladiator_ DVD!" she said, as if that explained everything. Then she looked at John with a big bright smile plastered on her face. "How's it going?"

But before he could respond, another person came running into the room.

"Oh my God...you...have to...come...see..." Siryn panted out, completely out of breath.

"Did Logan send you too?" Rogue asked irritatedly.

"What? No! The news! It's on the news! Come on!" Siryn grabbed John and dragged him out. They hurried down the stairs, John almost losing his footing on the last step, and into the TV room where a group of people had already gathered, watching the news broadcast.

"Breaking story coming out of Colorado: two men were apprehended at a local motel. They are believed to be the same men who Arizona authorities have been searching for, wanted in connection to the murder of Arizona Senator William Harrison's daughter and the attempted kidnapping of her children. As of now, they are being held without bail in a Colorado jail and awaiting extradition back to Arizona…"

John could feel all the eyes in the room on him as he stared at the screen.

"I have to make a call," he muttered before making his exit.


	9. Chapter 9

"_More news coming out of Colorado: one of the men who had been apprehended in connection to the Jessica Sullivan's murder has died in police custody. Unconfirmed reports have claimed that the man, Timothy Baker, had managed to swallow a pill of cyanide. A full investigation has been launched against the prison and the guards - it is alleged that the officers had not done a thorough job searching for contraband when Mr Baker was brought in. It is also rumored that Mr Baker was suppose to have been under a 24-hour suicide watch..._

"_The surviving suspect, Kenneth Quintin, is being transported back to Arizona today. He is being escorted by U.S. marshals out of both Arizona and Colorado, in addition to the uniformed police officers assigned to Mr Quintin. Needless to say, security surrounding the prisoner is extremely tight in light of the recent death of Mr Quintin's accomplice..._

"_Mystery unfolds tonight as the five car convoy that had been transporting prisoner Kenneth Quintin has disappeared while on its way to the courthouse. Mr Quintin was suppose to have been arraigned this morning but the defendant and none of his escorts arrived…_

"_The convoy has been found, parked on the side of the road with all the officers inside, heavily drugged but alive. It is believed that Mr Quintin must have had outside accomplices to help him escape although it is still unresolved how these unidentified accomplices managed to incapacitate the officers..._

"_A search team has found Kenneth Quintin not ten miles from where the convoy had been found. Police have not released any details but sources say that Mr Quintin is dead from two gunshots to the head..."_

--

John had been in Phoenix for five days.

First day, he had arrived at the airport and the District Attorney had someone meet him there. They took him downtown to look at mugshots and go over his statement. They had him ready for all the legal procedures, what the defense might throw their way. He kept going over and over in his head what they told him; answer their questions, don't hesitate, be truthful, don't fidget, make eye contact...

Second day, he found out all that prep work was for nothing. The D.A. sat him down and told him there was nothing more to be done, the case was closed with the two known suspects dead. John barely heard him talking about closure - how could he have closure when he still didn't know why they had come? why they had killed his wife? He thought they told him that maybe it was about money, maybe it was a ransom kidnapping that had gone wrong.

Maybe this, maybe that. The one definitive thing was that Jess was still dead.

Third day, he pulled himself together. The unanswered questions, the bitterness, the anger will have to wait for another day.

He had to sell the house. There was no way they were coming back there to live. He had to pack things up, maybe give the furniture to Goodwill... He had to sell the cars too. Christ, there was so much still to do.

Fourth day, he stopped at the firehouse. They greeted him with big bear hugs and outpouring of emotion. Well, as much emotion as firemen were allowed to show in public.

He had gone there mostly to see the Captain. He needed to sign some papers and, hopefully, see if he could transfer to a desk job someplace. As much as he didn't want to give up fire-fighting, he needed to think about his children now. Risking his life on a daily and constant basis wasn't going to be an option anymore.

The Captain looked up from the paperwork, an eyebrow arched. "Uh...John Allerdyce?"

"It's a long story. It's being cleared it up with the department - their lawyers are having to have a field day with that."

"All right..." The Captain paused, reading over the papers again. "I think everything's filled out. I'll try to get you a transfer as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Cap."

Fifth day, he completely forgot about his meeting with Jim Barclay, their family lawyer, until his secretary called.

Jess's will was read - she had left most of her trust fund to her children, some to charities. John already knew what was in it since they had wrote the wills together. It was one of the first things they did after they got married.

Most newlyweds went out maybe to get a new TV, they went out to write their wills. He never figured that it would be this soon that they would be reading it again.

"There is one more thing Jessica had added to her will."

John looked up, surprised. "She did?"

"She had it added a few months ago." He slid an unlabeled videotape toward John.

"What is it?"

"She was very adamant that you were the only to view it."

"I don't understand."

Jim gave him a warm smile. "Some of my other clients leave video-taped messages for their loved ones after they've passed."

"Oh." John took the tape from the desk, slipping it into the bag he had brought with him. "Thank you, again, for everything. I'm sorry it took so long..."

"No, no, it's all right. I completely understand." They shook hands. "You let me know if there's anything else, okay?"

"Thanks."

Jim walked him to the door, they shook hands again and John made his way to his rental car.

"Mr Sullivan?"

At first, John didn't realize the person was talking to him.

"Mr Sullivan? Do you have a minute?"

He turned around, half expecting maybe a reporter, but instead he was confronted by two men in matching black suits, complete with sunglasses and slicked-back hair. The only difference between the two was that one was wearing a red tie, one a blue tie. He thought people only dressed like that in the movies – he wondered briefly if these guys had watched _The Matrix_ one too many times.

"Do I know you?" John asked.

They both pulled out badges to show to him. "We're with the FBI, sir. We have some questions regarding your wife's case."

"I thought the case was closed."

"We just have some loose ends to clear up. Would you mind coming with us to answer a few questions?"

"Uh...all right. Sure."

They stood on either side of him, walking him toward a black SUV. They had him sit in the backseat while they got into the front of the car, blue tie man was in the driver's seat.

They pulled out of the parking lot, driving in complete silence. John was starting to feel uneasy.

They had been driving for about ten minutes when red tie man turned around. "Could you hold out your arm, sir?"

"What? Why?"

Red tie man just looked at him, waiting. John stared back at him.

"Please, Mr Allerdyce, we just need to confirm something."

John was about to hold out his arm when he realized it and froze. "Wha...what did you call me?"

Red tie man faltered for a moment but pulled himself together just as quickly. His whole demeanor hardened as he demanded, "Give me your arm."

"No!" John scrambled away, pressing himself against the door. He struggled to open the door and trying to keep the red tie man at bay.

"Just give him the shot!" blue tie man yelled out, trying to keep the doors locked, the windows closed, and the car on the road. Their struggles inside the car were drawing some curious glances from the other motorists on the road.

"We have to get this right!" Red tie man was struggling to keep his hold onto John's arm, trying to pull him forward so he could administer the needle. John thought he was trying to aim for his heart. "Goddamnit, hold still!"

"Just give him the shot! We'll worry about what to tell the doctor later!" Blue tie man was so busy eyeing what his partner was doing, he never realized that the traffic in front of him had stopped for a red light until it was too late.

John would remember later hearing the screeching the tires made on the pavement, the loud curses the two men yelled in the car, the crunch of metal against metal. He could see the cars behind them, trying to stop in time also. It became a massive chain reaction, they bounced against one car to another. Somehow, the SUV went sliding into the center divider of the road, flipping over and over before skidding to a stop.

John smelt the smoke before he saw it. He tried opening the door again but it was now jammed shut. He kicked at the window, shattering the glass. He crawled out, clutching his bag. He was coughing from the smoke, distancing himself from the battered SUV when he heard him.

"You should really be more careful who you go off with, Mr Allerdyce. It's a good thing Cypher here knew how to manipulate those pesky little traffic signals..."

John knew that voice. "Magneto."

--

Rogue watched as Maggie shifted in her seat, unconsciously tearing her paper into tiny little bits. It was obvious that the girl was nervous about something. She had been for the past two days.

The first couple of days John had been gone, she was totally fine - playing with the other children, eating regularly, participating in class. Even Jack seemed to be getting used to having different people feed and change him - although he seemed to particularly enjoy giving Scott a hard time especially if the talcum powder bottle was within his reach. And where Jack was, the dogs were usually close by.

But then gradually, Rogue could sense a change in Maggie. She kept looking out the windows, waiting by the front door as if she was expecting someone. She picked at her food, became listless and detached from everything and everyone around her.

"Something wrong, Rogue?" Jubilee asked, nudging her friend out of her reverie.

"I think there's something wrong with Maggie."

Jubilee turned her attention to where Maggie was sitting between Sam who was busy trying to connect the dots in his activity book and Georgia who was eating paste again. Maggie was now tearing the little bits she had already torn into even smaller bits. "Well, she still hasn't eaten any paste yet, if that's what you mean."

"Jubilee..."

"Rogue, I'm not an idiot. I know what you really meant." She paused for a moment, just watching and wondering how much smaller Maggie wanted her paper torn. "How long has she been doing that?"

"All day. Look under her chair...she has a whole pile of torn paper there."

"Holy crap..."

"We should talk to her."

Before Jubilee could agree, a car door could heard slamming shut outside and with that, Maggie jumped out of her seat and out the door as fast as her little feet could take her.

"Maggie! Wait!" Rogue called out, running after the girl.

She followed Maggie to the front door. Maggie was standing near the door when it flew open to reveal Peter carrying yet another TV to add to his collection.

"Uhh...what's going on?" he asked, clearly confused as to why Maggie and Rogue were there to greet him.

The hopeful look that had been on Maggie's face rapidly dissolved to disappointment, her lower lip trembling. She slumped against a wall, looking defeated. Rogue didn't think she had ever seen a child look so depressed.

"What's wrong?" Rogue asked, kneeling in front of Maggie. She swept away Maggie's hair from her face to see tears trickling down her cheeks.

"He's not coming back, is he? He's gone away like Mommy..."

"What? Who's not coming back?"

"Daddy! My Daddy! He's gone!" Maggie slid down to the floor, hugging her knees to her little body.

"Maggie…Maggie…your father's coming back. I promise you, he's coming back. He didn't go away like your mommy."

Maggie looked up at her, trying to decide if she could believe her or not. "Is he coming today? I want him to come today."

"Oh, sweetie…" Rogue didn't know what to tell her. John had called a few days ago but never mentioned when he was suppose to be coming back. She thought he had sounded distracted, keeping his answers to her questions brief.

"Uh…Rogue…" Peter nodded toward the still open door. She could see outside another car pulling up to the driveway. Maggie could see it too.

"Daddy!" she yelled out, running toward the newly arrived car. She stopped short when a green sickly looking man came out of the driver side then a blonde man came out of the passenger's side. They all looked at each other, Rogue trying to figure out where she had seen the driver before. He looked so familiar to her...

"Maggie? What are you doing out here?" They had been so preoccupied with having a staring contest with the strangers, Rogue and Maggie hadn't noticed that John had stepped out from the back seat of the car.

"Daddy!" Maggie cried out, throwing herself into his arms. "You came back!"

"Of course I came back... What's going on? Did something happen?" He was looking at Rogue when he asked that question and she wanted to ask him the same thing.

He had big white bandage taped above his right eye, a dark ugly black and blue bruise could be seen on his wrist - like somebody had grabbed him and held onto him tightly. What the hell happened to _him_?

"John! You're back!" the Professor greeted, wheeling through the opened front door. He was followed shortly by the rest of the X-Men - it was starting to look a lot like that first reunion John had when he came back, only without Logan laughing about dog names. "And you've brought friends. Welcome, gentlemen."

"Toad," Storm gasped when she saw the green sickly looking man still standing by the driver side door. Toad grinned and gave her a mock salute.

"Wait a minute...if he's here then..." Scott began, only to be interrupted when someone emerged from the other side of the car.

"Hello, Charles. It's been too long."

"Erik."

Magneto chuckled. "Now don't tell me you weren't expecting us."


	10. Chapter 10

He made it all the way to New Jersey. He just had one more state line to cross and he would have found her. He knew he would have. How hard could it have been to find a girl with a Southern accent and white stripes in her hair?

But he didn't even make it to see the sign welcoming him to the great state of New York.

He knew he should have fixed that broken tail-light before he left but he needed to make up for lost time. He had waited too long. He should have chased after her the moment he realized she was gone. But instead, he chose to brood, to mope around in the half-empty apartment and stare at that fucking map on the kitchen wall, drinking every bottle of alcohol available in Savannah.

Then one day, after finding himself facedown in a puddle of tears and spilt vodka, he knew that he had to stop this. Stop this stupid fucking one-man pity party. He got off his sorry ass, got his shit together, and headed toward where she would be.

Just when he thought he was going to see her again, it was just his luck two overly attentive policemen spotted his broken tail-light. They pulled him over and ran his name – the one time he didn't have a fake ID on him. They saw the variety warrants for a variety of offenses in a variety states that had his name written all over it and now here he was, sitting in a fucking tiny little jail cell in some no-name town while attorneys and lawyers bicker over which one got to try him first.

"LeBeau! Get up! You got visitors!"

Remy slowly got to his feet and stood as patiently as possible while one of the guards handcuffed roughly. They escorted him to an empty meeting room where they uncuffed him. He thought briefly that he was going to meet his harried and over-worked court-appointed lawyer again. But instead, when the metal door creaked open, two men, both wearing matching black suits but different colored ties, came in. Neither men looked particularly friendly and Remy tensed noticeably.

"No need to be nervous, Mr LeBeau. We're actually here to help you with your…um…how should I put it? Inability to follow the law?" One of the men, the one wearing the green tie, stood quietly in the corner with his arms crossed, while the other man, the one wearing the pink tie, put the briefcase he had been carrying on the table that was in the middle of the room. He opened the briefcase with a snap and pulled out a few manila folders. He slid them to where Remy was standing on the opposite side. "Go ahead. Open them. It's information you want to know, the reason you came all the way up north."

Remy looked at the man skeptically but opened the folders anyways, his curiosity getting the better of him. His eyes widened as he realized one of the folders contained what looked to be surveillance pictures. Pictures of…Rogue. Of her at a clothing store, getting out of a car, entering a building, just walking down the street…

"Wha…what… How did you…" he sputtered out.

"It's my business to know things, Mr LeBeau," the pink tied man said simply. "In the other folder, you'll find some information about her employer, a school for the 'gifted.'" Remy didn't know what to make of the man's tone of voice when he said that last word. But before he could dwell on it any further, the man continued on, calm and cool like before. "Now, my partner and I work for a very important agency...an agency that can and will wipe your entire record clean if, that is, you are willing to help us."

"What is it that you want?"

The pink tied man smiled serenely. Remy got chills up his spine. "Well, since you seem to be heading that way, we just need you to gather some information for us about that school…and about a particular resident there."

Remy was silent for a moment. "Remy is no spy, especially not her."

"Oh no, Mr LeBeau, you misunderstand…we're not interested in her. Well…not anymore, anyways… There's another resident. A man. We'd like to…ah…learn more about him and his movements." He pulled out another folder and laid it on the table. "Have you been watching the news, Mr LeBeau?"

"Been busy…" Remy shrugged. He had no use for such things.

"Yes, of course. Good…excellent…" The pink tied man smiled again and Remy couldn't help thinking that this was not a man who should be smiling so often.

Remy took the folder from off the table to take his attention away from that creepy smile. He saw more surveillance pictures but these were of a light-haired man – walking two dogs, coming out of a grocery store, moving boxes… It was the last picture that made Remy's heart stop. He'd recognize those white streaks ten million miles away but what he didn't recognize was the way she was smiling at this man like…like he was some kind of long-lost lover. She never looked at _him_ like that…

"His name is John Allerdyce."

_John…_

He could still remember how she had breathed out that name in her sleep. Was this the same man?

"They make a cute couple, don't you think?" the green tied man said from his corner. Remy looked up sharply at him and the green tied man just grinned. Another man who shouldn't be smiling so often.

"Don't mind him. He's just trying to get a rise out of you. Now…do we have a deal?"

Remy was still a little hesitant. This just seemed a little too much of a good thing. "Information? That all you need? And Remy get no jail time?"

"Your record will be wiped clean, Mr LeBeau. It'll be like none of it even happened. All we need is just a little bit of information."

Remy paused then nodded curtly. "Deal."

Both men smiled and Remy had the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach that he had just signed away his soul to the devil.

--

Rogue sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

_Another sleepless night…_

It was no use; it was obvious she wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon. She got up from her bed and put on a robe over her nightgown. Making her way downstairs to the kitchen, she hoped silently that maybe another glass of warm milk would help her insomnia – not that it had in the past.

She stopped short of the threshold of the kitchen when she saw someone was already there…and it was somebody she had wanted to talk to for a very long time.

There he was, sitting in the breakfast nook of the kitchen, calmly drinking tea.

Magneto.

No, not Magneto…not anymore. Erik Lensherr.

Ever since he had arrived at the mansion, she had wanted to speak to him. Not because she wanted to gossip and be his BBF or anything of the sort but because he knew something that she wanted to know, something that had haunted her for the past ten years. But every time she had seen him, he was with someone or holed up in some conference with the Professor and the rest of the X-team.

Tonight, though, he was without his usual companions – Toad probably watching TV with Jones, Cypher probably messing around with the school's computer system.

Finally, this was her chance to get some information out of this man.

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" he asked, putting down his own cup in its matching saucer.

"Yes," she answered quietly, determined not to show this man any kind of fear – she wasn't the same little girl he knew from Ellis Island.

Then again, he wasn't the same man from Ellis Island either.

She took the seat across from him, watching as he reached for the teapot that had been sitting on the table and poured a cup for her.

His hand hovered over the bowl that held the sugar cubes. "How do you take your tea? One lump or two?"

"Just one, please."

"Milk?"

"No, thank you."

He dropped a sugar cube into her drink and stirred, then handed her the cup and saucer. She took a sip and had an overwhelming urge to laugh hysterically.

She couldn't believe she was doing this. She was having a cup of tea with the man who had tried to kill her. The entire situation was so wrong on so many levels.

Just as she opened her mouth to ask him her question, he beat her to the punch. How he knew just exactly what she wanted to know from him, she'll never figure out.

"He just needed a ride."

She looked up from her cup. "What?"

"That day…at Alkali Lake. Yes, he got on the helicopter with us but he made it crystal clear that he only wanted a ride and wasn't going to be joining us or our Brotherhood any time soon. Those, of course, weren't his exact words – the boy has a very colorful vocabulary. And don't get me wrong; I did my best to persuade him but all he kept saying was that he needed to get away for awhile, that he needed time to think. I believe once he was through with his…ah…'thinking,' he was going to return to this lovely school. He had so much anger that day though… I wouldn't want to have had that anger directed at me…"

She put down her cup abruptly, not noticing the tea sloshing over the sides and spilling onto the table. "Where…where did you leave him?"

"Just outside of Vancouver. After that…I don't know what happened to him." He picked up a sugar cookie from a plate and began delicately nibbling on it.

She stared out the big kitchen window behind him, ignoring the way he was picking up the cookie crumbs. It was a dark night, no moonlight to speak of. Her memory was drawn back to that other dark night, the night before he had gotten on that damn helicopter.

"_Why are you so angry?"_

"_You had no right, Rogue! No fucking right!"_

_Her eyes widened, frightened at being, for the first time since she had known him, the target of his wrath. "You were out of control! You were going to kill someone! You were going to get yourself killed! Somebody had to stop you! Please, John, try to understand!"_

_He looked at her and she knew he was struggling within himself to listen, to not let this rage consume him. _

_Her mistake had been when she touched his arm while he was still in turmoil. "No, don't fucking touch me. Don't you touch me ever again."_

She was pulled back when she heard the rattling of dishes. Erik Lensherr was putting the dishes into the sink, his back to her.

She blinked back her tears and left the kitchen without another word.

Let the great Magneto clean up the mess on the table.

--

John sighed with relief when he heard Maggie's soft breathing. She was finally asleep after hours of reading every single book they owned out loud together and playing shadow puppets against the bedroom wall.

He slowly rolled off of the small bed and tucked the young girl under the blankets.

He checked on Jack who was still sleeping peacefully. He had moved Jack's crib into Maggie's smaller room when he had come back from Phoenix. They did seem to sleep better when they were together.

His attention was then turned to the two dogs. Logan (the dog) lifted his head momentarily but laid back down again, closing his eyes. Scottie was curled up next to him.

Safety in numbers, he thought to himself.

John closed the door connecting the two rooms and sat on his own bed, rubbing a hand over his face. He was tired. He just wanted to sleep.

But that was just another excuse to put off what he knew was an eventuality. One way or another, he was going to have to watch that tape. He had been putting it off for far too long.

Jess's last words to him.

He took the tape from where he had hidden it from between the mattress and box spring and pushed the tape into the VCR he had set up in his room. Before he pressed play though, he made sure again that the door was firmly shut and the TV volume was set low. He didn't want Maggie bursting into the room with the false hope of hearing her mother's voice.

He took a deep breath, sitting down heavily in one of the chairs in the room. He pressed the button on the remote and waited.

At first, the screen was just blank and he thought maybe there was a wire disconnected somewhere. But then, there appeared onscreen a blurred picture of a room…

_This wasn't what I was expecting…_

The picture came into focus and he realized it was a hospital room. There was someone lying on an operating table, hooked up to various machines that were making a symphony of noises. A man, his face covered by a surgical mask, stepped in front of the camera.

"This is test subject 425-96784. Today, we will be making our preliminary incisions."

The camera zoomed onto the person on the operating table and John didn't know what the hell to think.

_What the…_

Before he could process and comprehend what was going on, the tape cut and then jumped to the same hospital room with the same man in front of the camera, only this time he was without the surgical mask.

_Wait a minute…that's… What is going on here?  
_

"Test subject 425-96784. Final injection was given at 0900 hour. Test subject has not responded well to this latest injection. Complications have arose. Surgical intervention may be needed."

The tape cut to a large operating room. People were all huddled around the table where someone was bleeding profusely. Blood was everywhere.

"We're losing him!"

"More blood! We need more blood!"

"Where the hell is the gauze?"

"Suction! Suction!"

"Starting compressions!"

"We need to shock him! Set to 400!"

"Clear!"

"Again!"

"Clear!"

"Again!"

"Clear!"

The tape cut again.

"Test subject 425-96784 is stabilized. We have put him in a medical-induced coma for the time being…"

The tape cut but this time did not jump to a hospital room or an operating room. Instead, it looked to be an office where a man and a woman were having a heated argument.

"I am giving you an order. The Secretary has already signed off on it. It's a stop-loss order, Emily," the man said, waving a finger in the woman's face. "If you don't comply with it, all of your precious research, all of your government grants can be and will be taken away."

"Well, Ted, you can tell the Secretary he can shove that order right up his ass. I'm not going to kill him."

"You know very well that a stop-loss order is not…"

"Don't patronize me. I know exactly what a stop-loss order means and I am telling you now, it's not going to happen."

"When we gave you this test subject, Emily, you and Peter promised me that you wouldn't take this personally. He is _not_ Ben."

The woman's eyes turned hard – even the camera picked up on that. "You don't know anything. And I'm telling you right here, right now, he's not going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it. And you know and I know that I do. You're not the only one, Ted, with friends in high places."

The video ends and John can only sit there as the tape rewound itself.

--

A/N: Long time, no see, right? I hope people are still reading this!

I'm also just getting over a bad case of bronchitis so…hoping this chapter makes sense since I'm under the influence of medication. :P


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